Chanting: Does It Produce Parinama Leslie Freyberg

CHANTING: DOES IT PRODUCE PARINAMA?

BY LESLIE FREYBERG

n her Friday evening classes in Boston, Patricia Walden begins by having everyone gather around and read a selection of sutras concerning a specific theme. On one particular evening, the subject of discussion was Isvara pranidhana. Aloud, we read the following sutras, first in Sanskrit, then the English translation provided by B.K.S. Iyengar:

I.23 Isvara-pranidhanad va The citta may be restrained by profound meditation upon God and total surrender to Him.

II.1 tapas svadhyayesvara-pranidhanani kriya yogah Burning zeal in practice, self-study, and study of scriptures, and surrender to God are the acts of yoga. II.45 samadhi-siddhir Isvara pranidhanat Surrender to God brings perfection in Samadhi.

After a brief discussion of these sutras, Patricia encouraged the class to take on any sutras of our own choosing and to incorporate the study of them into our sadhana. To give more meaning (artha) to our asana practice, she suggested that we find a single sutra that resonates within us. She further suggested that if we repeat that sutra either out loud or silently, its meaning can become embedded in our hearts, giving us an understanding of its message that goes beyond what can be found from dictionaries and analytical understanding.

Patricia’s words reminded me that there really is something to feeling the vibration of a meaningful and potent message and that the vibration itself can help us navigate difficult times or appreciate the joys and good fortunes that come our way. With these words, Patricia planted a seed of faith into our consciousness and left us to water that faith (sraddha) with practice.

Many of us know the uplifting feeling we get when hearing great music, whether it be one of Beethoven’s glorious symphonies, the work of the latest popular music idol, or, perhaps for our community, attending a kirtan with Krishna Das. B.K.S. Iyengar refers to the chanting of Nataraj Shastrigal and his group of chanters as melodious and beautiful. Regardless of our cultural background and its dictates of what a beautiful sound should be, it would be difficult to imagine a life without music. Vibration! Glorious sound! We define Parinama as “transformation.” And don’t we all feel a little bit— or maybe a whole lot— transformed by being uplifted at a wonderful concert? All we have to do is sit and listen. Aahh! Sit still! Listen! I have found that when I truly listen to a concert of Beethoven, Brahms, or Mozart, if I am lucky, my concentration moves into uninterrupted attention, and then, if I am really lucky, I get absorbed completely in the music. For a brief period of time, there is nothing in my world except the music and me. And this, for me, is bliss.

Much of the music in the Western world has been composed to express faith in God. Chanting, in the part of the world we have come to know as India, all came out of the desire to express one’s faith in, and adoration of, God.

Certainly, if we want to witness “faith in action” today, all we have to do is attend one of Krishna Das’s concerts. No one questions that what he does comes from a deep devotion to his chosen deity (ishta devata) and to his guru, who was likely inspired by his own faith in God. We benefit from the devotion of Krishna Das by feeling and hearing the vibration of his sonorous voice, which is steeped in devotion. This experience often puts us in a state of inexplicable joy! Might this be parinama? And whose parinama is it? Krishna Das’s, or ours?

Our study of the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali reveals that the term “parinama” appears for the first time in the second chapter, in examining the nature of suffering. This word does not appear again until after the exposition and definition of the final three limbs of yoga, Dharana, Dhyana, and Samadhi in the third chapter. Here, parinama is presented as a result of the

Leslie chanting with her dog, Henley

integration of those final three limbs and as a means to gain special knowledge and abilities:

III.16

Parinama traya samyamad atitanagata jnanam

By mastery of the three transformations of nature (dharma), quality (laksana), and condition (avastha), through samyama on the nirodha, samadhi, and ekagrata states of consciousness, the yogi acquires knowledge of the past and the future.

III.17 sabdartha-pratyayanam itaretaradhyasat sankaras

tat-pravibhaga-samyamat sarva-bhuta-ruta jnanam

Words, objects, and ideas are superimposed, creating confusion; by samyama, one gains knowledge of the language of all beings.

According to Swami Muni Narayana Prasad in his book, The Taittiriya Upanisad:

“Knowledge, when expressed through language, has three basic elements: the uttered sound (sabda), its meaning (artha), and the mysterious power of a sound to contain a meaning as its own (sakti). When a sound is uttered, the hearer hears only a mere sound. Uttering a word and hearing it as a sound are both physical aspects of the process. On hearing the sound of a On hearing the sound of a word, a spurting up of meaning happens in the mind. This is a mental process, but how a mere sound is transformed into a meaning that flashes in the mind is unknown to us.

word, a spurting up of meaning happens in the mind. This is a mental process, but how a mere sound is transformed into a meaning that flashes in the mind is unknown to us. This unknown element is technically called sakti (power). What we can say about it is that this wonder belongs to the divine aspect in all of us in general.”

This passage brings my attention back to Sutra III.17. Dr. Edwin Bryant, in The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, gives us insight into the meaning of this sutra:

“… Patanjali notes in this sutra that there is a distinction between a ‘word,’ sabda; its ‘meaning’ or the object that it denotes, artha; and the idea or knowledge of the object that it creates in the mind, pratyaya. ... To explain ... samyama and the ability to understand the speech of all creatures, the commentators embark on a discussion of sphota theory. By manipulation of air in the speaker’s mouth, the organ of speech articulates the sound or set of sounds ... which then vibrate in the air and move toward the hearer’s organ of ear, the ear drum, which receives the sounds of the word uttered. Sounds have the potential of expressing all objects ... it is only their particular sequence that determines which specific object the speaker intends to convey. As each sound of a word is uttered, an impression or trace is left on the mind even though the sound fades away. As the last sound is uttered, the memory connects the samskaras or imprints of the syllables, and the mind construes meaning from the entirety of the impressions of the phonemes. ... Once received by the ear, the word manifests its meaning in the mind of the hearer, which is a function of the mind and not of sound. ... How is meaning construed from this jumble of sounds? Is meaning inherent in the sounds themselves, or is it something separate? ... There must be something ... that underpins and unites these letters such that a meaning can be produced from them. This is considered to be the sphota, the permanent meaning-bearing aspect of the word. A word or meaning signifier, sabda, is called sphota, because a meaning, artha, bursts forth (sphutati) from it.”

When we chant, is it enough to just focus on the vibrations of the sounds we make, or is it essential to understand the meaning of the chant?

In the Amrta-Bindu-Upanishat, there is a passage that says, “One who is deeply steeped in Brahman in the form of sound, will attain Brahman.” Attaining Brahman may or may not be the

Having studied extensively with Sonia Nelson, a devoted student of Desikachar and renowned in her own right as one of the most highly respected teachers of Vedic chanting in the U.S., I have come to appreciate my own experience of the power of the Sanskrit sounds

same thing as “Tada drastuh svarupe avasthanam,” in which the seer gains sight of the soul, as stated by Patanjali. But we have definitely entered into the realm of divinity at this point in our study. When this happens, like it or not, we have crossed the threshold of faith. Sraddha!

Whatever the goal, the art of chanting is considered to be a form of yoga, and the tools used to perfect the art of chanting are the same as the ones Patanjali prescribes for yoga.

Starting with the Vedas, the tradition of chanting began in a world in which there was no written record of mantras or prayers. All sacred texts were believed to have been heard (sruti) because they were the word of God, messages from a divine consciousness sent to mankind by way of the one who heard the messages, a sage or muni. These messages were then orally transmitted from teacher to student as a means to preserve the sacred words in the most unpolluted way possible. The attainment of success in this endeavor must have required much tapas and concentration, not to mention faith, on the part of both teacher and student.

Perhaps it was during this period when Sanskrit was refined and then emerged as a language whose power and beauty became dependent upon the quality of sounds produced. Sound is audible vibration. Making the sounds gave such meaningful experience to the practitioner that it may have overshadowed the effects on the listener.

Grasping the Sanskrit language begins with learning the five locations in the mouth where a Sanskrit sound can be made. From that point, the tongue is taught to shape itself to create different qualities of sound. When we take on the activity of chanting a Sanskrit syllable, word, or mantra, focusing our attention on where and how to produce a sound and a sequence of sounds, it requires concentration, Dharana. Once we engage ourselves in learning to chant a Sanskrit mantra properly, we are on our way toward the threefold and integrated samyama.

If we agree that acquisition of parinama is something beneficial, the words of T.K.V. Desikachar contribute something of value here. In his book, Mantravalli, An Anthology of Sacred Chants, he says: “Mantras are powerful sounds, which when pronounced in the right manner and with the right intention, produce specific vibrations within our body. These vibrations have the ability to positively influence our physiological state, thereby improving physical, mental, and emotional health.”

Having studied extensively with Sonia Nelson, a devoted student of Desikachar and renowned in her own right as one of the most highly respected teachers of Vedic chanting in the U.S., I have come to appreciate my own experience of the power of the Sanskrit sounds. When making these sounds together in a large group, there is nothing quite like the experience of power and joy— particularly when chanting a text like the Taittiriya Upanishad.

In the end, however, I am not so sure that whatever type of parinama I may have experienced is equal to the parinama that is nourished by faith in the text I am chanting. Possession of that faith comes from constant study of its meaning. Then I have to determine whether or not I accept the message as truth. If I do, then I am free to continue to chant wholeheartedly, and joy indeed increases. That joy penetrates my consciousness with as much depth as my intentions and efforts will allow. Of that, I have no doubt. Even if we do not know the meaning of what we are chanting, we get benefits from it. But knowing the meaning of what we are chanting obviously gives us a richer experience and access to a deeper sensation of joy.

vag arthav iva samprktau, vag artha pratipattaye. Jagatah pitarau vande, Parvati, Parameshvarau.

“For the right comprehension of words and their senses, I salute Parvati (the mountain’s daughter) and Paramesvara (Siva), the parents of the universe, who are [perpetually] united like words and their meanings.” (Kalidasa, The Raghuvamsa, Translation: M.R. Hale)

That said, I am moved to add that, in my experience of chanting, and even of teaching Sanskrit, the Sanskrit sounds draw in the animals. Birds, cats, dogs, and even rabbits respond to chanting. Our Cocker Spaniel Henley will not let me finish my morning coffee in peace until I sit myself down on his bed and chant. As soon as he hears the invocation, he settles down in my lap, closes his eyes, and remains there. Perhaps chanting, like yoga, is for everyone.

Leslie Freyberg (Intermediate Junior I) is an Iyengar Yoga teacher and also teaches Sanskrit and Vedic chanting.

AN IYENGAR YOGA COMMUNITY IS EVOLVING IN IDAHO

BY SUSAN LAMBERSON

Six Idaho women, ages 38 to 68, came together in early 2014 to study for Iyengar Yoga certification. We formed a

cohort to prepare for the 2015 assessment cycle. While each member took her own path to the assessment, the time taken to study together provided an opportunity to hone personal practice, develop teaching skills, and build friendships. While some, if not all, of us would have passed assessment without the group, the experience brought heart and humor to this challenging and time-intensive effort. All six of us passed our assessments and are now certified Introductory Iyengar Yoga teachers. We currently teach from a solid foundation in the Iyengar Yoga method that benefits our students, the Idaho yoga world, and our individual practices.

The group included Barbara Harris, Barb Sato, Jenn Tigli, me (Susan Lamberson)— all from Boise— as well as LaLanne Dehlis from Burley, Idaho (population 3,000), and Dana Perkins from Stanley, Idaho (population 265). Most of us sought the combined Level I and II certification. Dana already possessed Level I certification and joined us to prepare for Level II.

In December 2013, Randy Just visited Boise and offered teacher training and encouragement for us to work toward certification. Our fledgling group decided to meet and form a cohort to study together. We were fortunate to have Vickie Aldridge and Don Gura, both of Boise, mentor us. Our senior teachers were Mary Obendorfer, Rebecca Lerner, and Randy Just.

Here are some notes from each member of the group on how the experience transformed our individual practices, our relationship to the certification process, and our relationship to each other.

Front: Dana Perkins, Barb Sato; middle: Susan Lamberson, Barbara Harris; back: LaLanne Delis, Jenn Tigli

“ When we started, I was the only one who had never taught a class. That could have been pretty intimidating, but we established our sessions as a safe place right from the start.”

Dana Perkins “Our study group of six teachers met once a month for a little over a year. One teacher was assigned to be in charge of the monthly session and prepared an itinerary for the rest of us. The itinerary was sent out a couple of weeks before our meeting and was drawn from the requirements listed in the 2015 Certification Manual. We’d sit and quiz each other, teach a pose, and discuss the essential actions and direction of each asana. We sometimes pulled an asana “out of a hat” and taught it on the fly.

“As our assessment time drew near, we each videoed a 40-minute mock assessment with real students. Vickie Aldridge, owner of the Boise Yoga Center, was generous enough to let us use the studio for our four-hour afternoon sessions. We became a close-knit group of friends (and dining companions!).”

LaLanne Delis “I still consider myself a student every day because passing the first assessment is only the beginning. I learn from my students as B.K.S. Iyengar suggested we do. They were the drive I needed to complete the test. I was fortunate to be included in a study group of six, which kept me organized and on track.

“Seeing the transformation in my students with the better teaching skills I gained kept me pushing forward toward the actual assessment. In my life, I am a wife, mother, boss, teacher, and volunteer. I take each job seriously. But as I become the teacher I am inspired to be, I have moved ‘yoga teacher’ to the No. 1 spot.

“The study group helped keep my focus alive. I live 200 miles away from the rest of the group, and many times I didn’t want to spend that much time on the road driving there to study. But somehow I knew I would regret not going, and now I see the gift of working with each person in the group. We all had our own ways of preparing and performing. Some were more advanced than others, but no one ever stood on a higher pedestal. We also didn’t have to give up our individual style to conform to ‘the perfect yoga teacher.’

“Keeping in mind the Yamas and Niyamas, we formed together in a peaceful collaboration and conquered the uncomfortable and unfamiliar. We urged each other to keep going and jump those obstacles that tried to get in the way. We left our egos at the door. We had fun and we made fun, but we always kept the goal in sight. We all are proud to become part of the Iyengar Yoga teacher family.” Barb Sato “When we started, I was the only one who had never taught a class. That could have been pretty intimidating, but we established our sessions as a safe place right from the start. Even though we would critique each other’s teaching performance, the feedback would always be offered from a place of love. From that base, not only have we deepened our practice of yoga, we have developed a strong bond of friendship.

“Now that we have successfully passed the certification assessment and our future paths begin to spread out in different directions, we still plan to meet occasionally to share practice tips on asana and teaching, test out new adjustment or prop techniques, discuss different approaches to the business of yoga, or just enjoy camaraderie in general. Whatever our sessions evolve to be, I’ll treasure the time spent in this company.”

Barbara Harris “I started down the Iyengar Yoga certification path on two or three occasions but got sidetracked by family or career. When I retired, I felt that I was really too old to work on certification. I felt it was among the opportunities that had passed me by. I was still just as driven to learn about my practice and to dig into the Iyengar way, I just did not see the point of certification as I approached 70 years old.

“Then I began to work with this group of younger women who were determined to become certified Iyengar Yoga teachers. I loved studying with them. They had energy and joy and were so eager to follow the yoga path. I followed along, offering whatever I could to the process, learning as well, and enjoying their energy.

“During the year of intense study before certification, I lost my brother to cancer. His death shook my foundation in ways I could not have imagined. It took all the strength I had just to get up in the morning and to keep up with my daily practice. The rigors of certification were out of the question (I thought). My mentors, Vickie and Mary, as well as those future compassionate and loving teachers, gave me their strength and encouragement. These people and yoga pulled me through. They convinced me to focus on what life had to offer while I had the chance. First on the agenda: Get that certification.

“It was the best thing I could do to address the grief and to carry me forward. I passed certification just short of a year after my brother passed. For over 20 years now, Iyengar Yoga has

“ We all had our own ways of preparing and performing. Some were more advanced than others, but no one ever stood on a higher pedestal.”

pushed, prodded, nudged, and kicked me down the path to a better place. Yoga is still working its magic on me. I am so grateful for all the love and pain that has brought me to this place in my life and look forward to what it has to show me in the future.”

Susan Lamberson “It is well-documented that the journey of yoga is transformative. Indeed, I have been transformed by yoga. From my first look at a Richard Hittleman book to becoming an Iyengar Yoga student to teaching, this path has enhanced my health and well-being. I have had the great privilege of being able to pass yoga on through teaching.

“I found Iyengar Yoga and apprenticed with Bobbi Goldin in south Florida in the 1990s. Soon I moved to a rural town in California where I taught for several years. I attended workshops at least annually. When I moved to Boise, I did not intend to teach, but I did feel a need to be a student in earnest as I had not formally studied for some time. I had not gone up for assessment because my life as a householder and stage fright had put that goal on the back burner.

“However, outer (recession and slow job market) and inner (effects of recession and slow job market) circumstances dictated that I return to a diligent practice. I discovered that I missed teaching and began substituting at Boise Yoga Center.

“It was around this time that I joined a study group of women whose life paths wove together for the common purpose of becoming Certified Iyengar Yoga Teachers. We studied diligently, and our students noticed. My stage fright eased, and I was able to go up for assessment— thanks to the support and encouragement of my cohort. All of us are now teaching yoga. Meetings are less frequent, but I do value our friendship and bond. We still work together to hone and improve our teaching skills.”

PART III: SAMADHI

BY SIEGFRIED BLEHER AND JARVIS CHEN

Siegfried Bleher Jarvis Chen Photo: Travis L. Kelley

In the third and final part of their conversation on yoga and science, Intermediate Junior III Iyengar Yoga teachers

Jarvis Chen and Siegfried Bleher consider whether science can (and should) study Samadhi. In Part I, they discussed the idea that the way we practice yoga and the deep internal subjective states yoga leads to may require a way of knowing that is foreign to science as we currently practice it. In Part II, they looked at the many layers of being one can touch in the practice of Utthita Trikonasana and asked which of these are accessible to science. An important question they considered in Part II is how do either yoga or science deal with the study of something like our mind when the instrument we use to conduct the study is itself the mind? In the final part, the conversation returns to ways of knowing. The way we know and experience our world, as a particular aspect of citta, undergoes transformation ( parinama) through the practice of yoga.

Siegfried Bleher: At the end of our last conversation, we promised to talk about the nature of Samadhi and whether science can study Samadhi. I thought we could discuss these questions: What is the nature of Samadhi as it is presented in the Yoga Sutras? What are the conditions necessary and sufficient to lead to the experience of Samadhi? What are the transformations in citta and the mahabhutas that coincide with progress toward the experience of Samadhi? What is the process that is experienced on the way toward Samadhi? And, last, what does science have to say about any of these things?

Jarvis Chen: Okay, let’s talk about these points.

SB: We have several sutras that talk about Samadhi. Sutra I.17 talks about the four kinds of samprajnata Samadhi. In Sutra I.18, Patanjali talks about a special kind of state—virama pratyaya— that he doesn’t specifically call Samadhi, but we know he is referring to asamprajnata Samadhi. And then later on in Sutra I.41, he talks about the coincidence between grasper, grasping, and grasped.

JC: Right, in Sutra I.41 ksinavrtteh abhijatasya iva maneh grahitr grahana grahyesu tatstha-tadanjanata samapattih: “The yogi realizes that the knower, the instrument of knowing, and the known are one, himself, the seer. Like a pure transparent jewel, he reflects an unsullied purity” (B.K.S. Iyengar, Light on the Yoga Sutras of Patanajali).

SB: So he talks about Samadhi by introducing the term samapatti, which means “coincidence”—a facet of Samadhi. There are several of those sutras in Samadhi Pada (I.41–I.51), and then he comes back to Samadhi in Sadhana Pada, where he talks about the conditions for Samadhi to occur—grace being a necessary condition. And then in the third Pada, he gives us yet another definition of Samadhi as the culmination of Ashtanga Yoga. So what strikes me is that the idea of coincidence of observer, observing, and observed is key to understanding Samadhi. But that coincidence is the culmination of a process of transformation in citta (parinama), as well as in the bhutas, in the experience of our body. This ties in with what we spoke about last time, about the role that perception plays.

JC: I think this is a good place to start. This is somewhat of an aside but may be related: I have been thinking about the way inquiry is conducted in quantitative versus the qualitative sciences. For example, I am more of a quantitative social scientist, so I tend to think in terms of populations and replicability and quantitative observation. But there is an equally rigorous science for the more qualitative social sciences like anthropology, where a deep inquiry can be conducted—studying deeply the experience of one or two people who are interviewed at length, or even the participant observation of anthropologists who immerse themselves in field work where their study is conducted from their position of subjectivity—of being an observer who is immersed in that community or environment. I have been thinking that the way we know, or study, or experience the science of yoga is more along these lines—we have our own personal experience that we delve into with great penetrating inquiry, where we are also cognizant of our own subjectivity. And this question: How can we know when the instrument of knowing is part of what we are trying to understand itself? How do we understand the instrument of knowing when it’s part of this prakrti we are trying to observe in the first place? So, I think that kind of perspective on the inquiry we’re conducting is an equally rigorous scientific perspective, but it is one where subjectivity itself becomes part of our inquiry as both that which we are trying to know and also the instrument by which we are knowing.

JC: I am reminded of the sutra you quoted, I.41, about the grasper, that which is grasped, and the instrument of grasping when it comes to the question of perception. I was just rereading Sutra I.17 because Patricia was talking about it. In his translation of the

So, I think that kind of perspective on the inquiry we’re conducting is an equally rigorous scientific perspective, but it is one where subjectivity itself becomes part of our inquiry as both that which we are trying to know and also the instrument by which we are knowing.

Yoga Sutras, Edwin Bryant talks about the classical commentaries on vitarka, vicara, ananda, and asmita samprajnatas. He talks about these as four stages of samprajnata Samadhi that all have a form of support (alambana): “The consciousness of the purusha is still flowing through the prakrtic citta to connect with or be supported by an object in meditational focus, albeit in progressively more subtle ways.” Vacaspati Misra talks about vitarka Samadhi as being contemplation on a gross physical object, that is to say, meditating on an object that one experiences as a manifestation or construct of the gross physical and material elements. And then he talks about vicara Samadhi as involving absorption on the more subtle aspects of the object of meditation—to go from the gross elements, the mahabhutas, to the five tanmatras, the five subtle elements. And then progressively going through ananda and asmita rupa, going to more and more subtle levels of prakrti. In the yoga system, buddhi itself, the thing we are using to observe and to discern is itself part of that prakrtic matrix. But it is the subtle instrument of knowing. I am understanding more the transformation inherent in Guruji’s teaching: moving from gross physical actions in the arms and the legs, the bones and muscles and flesh to understanding the elements at play in the body to the subtle aspects of the elements, the tanmatras. I feel like the progression from vitarka to vicara to ananda to asmita rupa—the form of the self—is what Guruji is teaching us to do in the way we approach asana as observers embedded in this prakrtic body.

SB: Well, I think that segues right into the fourth topic—experience of Samadhi as a process. Not that you and I can talk about it as something we can claim to have experienced, but that the practice we have learned from Guruji can be seen as a kind of metaphor for the process of moving toward Samadhi as a process. As we discussed in Part II, my practice of Utthita Trikonasana evolves from attention to simple movements and the quality of solidity (earth element) to attention to fluidity (water element) and eventually the subtle elements (tanmatras). Each one of these changes in how we experience the physical body coincides with a change in the mind, a change in citta. For example, when I firm my thigh, I “do something.” To perform a connected or paired action, I must do one thing and do something else at the same time. Which means, really, I must keep the first thing but not be the agent (the doer) of that thing and add something else. So you can think of it as doing two things at the same time or as doing one thing—let’s say I press my inner foot down—but at the same time I have to not press my foot down in order to turn my thigh out. So if I am referring to the front leg in Utthita Trikonasana, in order to perform one single point, which is pressing the ball of my big toe—that’s the first thing I learn as a beginner. But later on I have to learn to turn my thigh out while pressing the big toe ball mound. That’s not only going to lead to a change in how I experience my body, but it requires that I have already changed something in how I relate to the physical body—which is a change in citta, how I use my mind. The particular state of mind that is able to do and not do at the same time is one that is undergoing nirodha parinama, the first of three transformations in the mind. The next kind is Samadhi parinama, learning how to do many things at once (sutra III.11, sarvathata ekagratayoh ksaya udaya cittasya Samadhi parinamah)—in which “all objectness” dwindles and onepointedness arises. I replace many actions that are to happen at the same time with a single action that performs all the individual actions. And this comes with a corresponding change in how we perceive the physical body.

SB: How do I make the connection between the transformative process I described, which is closely linked to Guruji’s method, to the process that Patanjali describes on the way to samapatti or samprajnata? One thing we notice in I.17 is that Patanjali does list the different types of Samadhi in a particular order. He starts with vitarka, then vicara, and so on. We can read this list as implying that one is grosser than the other. Let’s say I sit in meditation Tuesday night and focus on some physical object. But on Wednesday night, I try something more subtle, like the warmth of the candle (a tanmatra). And on Thursday, I focus on ananda. But I don’t think that’s what Patanjali intends. Another reading is from Prashant Iyengar. His interpretation (as I understand it) is that meditation begins with a gross object, but that within one sitting the meditation becomes more subtle.

JC: I think that’s right, because the subtle is actually inherent in the gross object—the subtle is already there.

SB: Yes, so when discernment (viveka) continues, while you are in vitarka samprajnata, then being one with the object of meditation reveals the subtle aspect distinct from the gross aspect, and the gross aspect can be dropped. Once the gross aspect is dropped, what remains is the subtle aspect and the state of vicara samprajnata. If the meditation continues, then the bliss or ananda that is already present becomes more prominent than the tanmatra or the quality of reflection, and vicara can be dropped. But embedded within the ananda there is the quality of I-am-ness: “I am having an experience.” (And asmita becomes more prominent than ananda.)

So the moment when we shift from contemplation of the object to the senses as the instruments of perceiving, that is a further shift inward to the more subtle—to asmita rupa to “I-am-ness.”

JC: To make this more concrete, I’ll refer to I.41 where Patanjali talks about grahitr, grahana, and graheysu (grasper, instrument of grasping, and the object that is grasped). The traditional commentaries talk about vitarka and vicara as referring to the external objects’ gross form and their subtle aspects or tanmatras. As the shift occurs toward ananda, the shift comes to the senses themselves as the perceiver. This is where we shift from that which is grasped to the instrument of grasping. Which is already there— the nature of mind is that it pervades everything. So the moment when we shift from contemplation of the object to the senses as the instruments of perceiving, that is a further shift inward to the more subtle—to asmita rupa to “I-am-ness.”

SB: Well that brings up an interesting question: If it is Samadhi at all, then there is complete coincidence among perceiver, the instrument of perceiving, and the object being perceived. So if there is coincidence of all three, then what is it that is ”shifting” from vitarka to vicara, from vicara to ananda, or from contemplation of the object to contemplation of the instruments of observation?

JC: “Shifting” is an interesting word. Perception is shifting, but actually shifting implies that something is moving from one place to another. What I would say is that perception is expanding; perception is realizing it is fully present in all three aspects. Is that reasonable?

SB: Well, that brings up another transformation, which is transformation in ways or forms of knowing (which ties us back to our first conversation). In the sutras, we move from pramana, which is correct cognition, to jnana, which is insight. And then to prajna, which is transcendental insight, to viveka khyater, vision of discernment. (What is common among all these ways of knowing is discernment—viveka. And the change from one form to another coincides with the different levels of gunas listed in Sutra II.19.) So each of these is a deeper way of knowing than the previous way. So the shifting you are talking about is perhaps a shift or change in the way of knowing. Otherwise we get trapped: Each of the four kinds of samprajnata represents a coincidence of all three aspects—perceiver, instrument of perception, and object being perceived—so there shouldn’t be any ”shifting” among them. In the experience of Samadhi, all four kinds [of Samadhi] are embedded, and we know of each through a distinct form of knowing. samprajnata Samadhi to asamprajnata Samadhi requires viveka khyater (Sutra II.26). This term is presented in Sutra II.26 as a means for ceasing avidya (spiritual ignorance), but it is also mentioned in Sutras IV:25, 26, and 29 as a way of seeing the distinction between purusha and the most sattvic form of citta. Finally seeing that distinction is what culminates in kaivalya, as I understand it.

JC: In the first pada, around I.48, there is a description of prajna that occurs in asamprajnata Samadhi: “insight of the kind that follows nirvicara Samadhi is truth-bearing.”

SB: Yes, that’s what I was calling transcendental insight—which Patanjali distinguishes from jnana in I.49.

SB: So far we have gone over ways of knowing (pramana, jnana, prajna, viveka khyater). What are the conditions for attaining Samadhi?

JC: We are given ways of creating the conditions for Samadhi (Samadhi bhavanata) in Sadhana Pada.

JC: In chapter two we have Sutra II.1 tapas, svadhyaya, isvara pranidhana kriya yogah, which describes kriya yoga, but these three practices are also described in Sutra II.2 as Samadhi bhavanata, conditions that bring about Samadhi.

SB: And we are given Sutra I.20 sraddha virya smrti Samadhi prajna purvaka itaresam: “Samadhi is preceded by faith, energy, memory, insight, and absorption.” Do you think these are necessary or sufficient conditions?

JC: Well, the implication is that they are necessary, but I don’t know if they are sufficient. Kriya yoga is given first to weaken klesas (klesa tanu): We cannot experience Samadhi unless we have weakened the klesas (causes of affliction), but there are probably other things that have to happen.

SB: Okay. Now let’s look at the fifth Niyama (isvara pranidhana) and Sutra II.45 Samadhi siddhir isvara pranidhanat: “Through devotion to the Lord [comes about] the attainment of Samadhi.”

JC: Which in Sutra I:23 is given as one of the other options for sadhakas who may not be supremely intense in their practices: isvara pranidhanad va: “Or Samadhi is gained through devotion to the Lord” (Edwin Bryant, The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali). So

“Yes! Samadhi is real!” To me, getting to this point where we ask deep questions about what direction our consciousness is moving in as we get closer to selfrealization, external questions about what science has to say about Samadhi seem less relevant somehow.

presumably isvara pranidhana is actually a very important part of how we get to asamprajnata Samadhi.

SB: So that would constitute a sufficient condition for Samadhi, I would say.

JC: Well, what does he mean by “or”? Does he mean that with isvara pranidhana—if done properly—nothing else is required?

SB: I would interpret it that way. This comes back in II.45, another example where devotion to the Lord is considered sufficient. Do you have any further thoughts about Samadhi?

JC: Because this project is an intensely personal one, the only one who can do it for you is yourself. The process of involuting consciousness and seeing the essential unity of grasper, grasping, and grasped … what would science have to say as an external description, and does it even matter? With the kind of observation that is deeply internal and deeply rigorous, do we need someone to publish a paper that says, “Yes! Samadhi is real!” To me, getting to this point where we ask deep questions about what direction our consciousness is moving in as we get closer to self-realization, external questions about what science has to say about Samadhi seem less relevant somehow. If you know for yourself, you might not care about what other people have to say about it from the outside.

SB: What I would suggest is that this reflects a natural evolution in the practitioner’s relationship to the external world: A falling away of some components of the external world that are seen to be not as meaningful as they once seemed. Along with a transformation in our physical frame and the way our minds work, there is going to be a change in the things we value. So some things will seem less important.

SB: I would also like to mention that the existence and experience of Samadhi can speak to some questions about the nature of what is “real” that modern science struggles with. For example, if I look at a sunset or a cloud and enter into a deep state of absorption where my consciousness becomes so absorbed in the cloud, and I begin to feel the cloud and what it may be like to “be” a cloud, have I imagined that? Or have I touched on some quality of a cloud that I can then take to an atmospheric scientist and say, “Here is something you might want to check out.” Or let’s say I bring to mind someone I know who lives a thousand miles away. In the image of that person, I become absorbed, and I sense they are in trouble. I phone this person and find out that yes, they are in difficulty. Does that not say to science, “Look, you are missing something by excluding events that are nonlocal or outside the normal passage of time.” And if these are real, then the science we currently practice, even qualitative research you mention—even though this includes the subjective—does not entertain the nonlocal. But Samadhi seems to imply nonlocality. How can it not, when you can “become the object of perception”? That may be just a phrase, but can science show it is more than just a phrase? Can it show there is something objective about it, or something the meditator knows that they could not have acquired otherwise, or shouldn’t have access to, according to current (local) science? To the extent we might answer these questions, I would say there is relevance in the (external) scientific study of Samadhi—beyond just saying what happens in someone’s brain. James Austin, who wrote Zen and the Brain, and other neuroscientists have shown that the brain undergoes clear reproducible changes when meditators enter various stages of Dharana and Dhyana. So that’s been done, but there is no study yet to my knowledge that explores Samadhi as an externally verifiable thing.

JC: I’m not sure we have a large enough population of people who have definitively experienced Samadhi in order for us to study them. You could do the usual thing we do, put up signs in the hospital asking for people who have experienced Samadhi, and offer $200 for participating in the study. I’m not sure who we would get from such a recruiting effort.

SB: I’m sure you would get interesting results from such a recruiting effort! But you know, there are those who study selfproclaimed “masters.” There is one researcher I know who interviews nondualists (advaita vedanists) for a living. He asks them what their experience is like; he does qualitative research. Although I don’t know how many Iyengar Yogis claim to have experienced these states …

JC: Even Guruji neither confirmed or denied having experienced such states.

SB: These are states meant to be absent of possessiveness: If I entered into Samadhi, it was a gift, an act of grace—I certainly didn’t produce it, nor do I possess it. I appreciate your bringing in the question of value—what is the value of studying Samadhi with science?

It has given me clarity about the different ways of knowing and clarified yoga as a scientific project—but one that is deeply subjective and concerned about the nature of subjectivity itself.

that has predictions about particular kinds of observations we should be able to make or qualities that would become manifest in these different stages. So, to the extent that science is about making predictions and then confirming that the things our theory suggested would happen do in fact happen, then these are the signposts for us to say we are practicing science [as Iyengar Yogis].

SB: So the process we are engaged in is science.

JC: Right, so it’s not that science has something to say about yoga, but that yoga is a science. It is a way of knowing. But, as you were saying, yoga encompasses multiple ways of knowing (e.g., pramana, jnana, prajnana, viveka khyater) that go beyond what we might normally think of as knowing in the western scientific tradition. So perhaps it’s not so much about what science has to say about yoga, but what yoga has to say about science!

SB: What can yoga teach science?

JC: Well, I do think that what is slightly different in yoga is that yoga posits a purusha who is witnessing. In the process of buddhi looking at citta or citta looking at citta or buddhi being purified or refined to look at more and more subtle aspects of citta, we come to a state where buddhi is so purified that it reflects purusha, and purusha becomes aware of itself as the witness. That’s my understanding of what Patanjali is saying. I feel this gives us a way out of the impasse that we are using the instruments of prakrti to look at prakrti. In that process, there is a moment or a state when purusha recognizes itself as the witness, as the source of seeing. I do feel like that’s how yoga resolves the question about how we perceive the unknowable or the fullness of that thing we are trying to describe. I don’t know how that works with quantum physics.

SB: If I think about how we talk about entangled states, the wave function of two things that are entangled—that sounds to me very much like the observer and observed being entangled. But the wave function, even though it is not a part of observed reality, I would say is probably still in prakrti. So then yoga would be adding something that is not yet identified by science—which is the final distinction between anything that has discernible parts and the source of observations. Or what has discernible parts and what is featureless. SB: So maybe that is the one thing not yet accepted or even considered by science. How would science look if it were to postulate this pure being—what effect would that have on how we do science or the meaning of what we discover?

JC: It might get more to the spirit of why we do science. Because otherwise the aims of science are within prakrti. I am not sure how to answer that question or even if I should ask that question. There is a way in which, as we get closer and closer to the states of Samadhi or more identified with purusha where we become less concerned with the temporary transformations of prakrti. That’s what I imagine, because I haven’t been there …

SB: This sounds like a good place to summarize and conclude our conversation.

JC: We can understand yoga as a science. And in that case, what can yoga as a science teach us about modern science? I also think that purusha is a distinction between yoga and science. It is purusha that gives us a resolution to the process of studying prakrti using the instruments of prakrti.

JC: It may be good for us to each think about how our conversation has changed our own relationships to yoga and science. It has given me clarity about the different ways of knowing and clarified yoga as a scientific project—but one that is deeply subjective and concerned about the nature of subjectivity itself. And the parallels we can draw between quantum physics, the nature of time, and several sutras.

SB: My own practice seems to include the kind of inquiry our conversation has stimulated—finding parallels between quantum physics and yoga. And that inquiry has greatly benefited from our conversations. I appreciate your noting that yoga is a science, the observation that purusha is a real difference between yoga and science as it is currently practiced, and that the existence of purusha [who is outside of prakrti] is a resolution to the question of how we study prakrti with an instrument of prakrti.

Jarvis Chen is a public health scientist, a social epidemiologist, who studies the effect of the social environment on health.

Siegfried Bleher teaches physics and studies nonlinear (chaotic) systems and their application to low-temperature plasmas.

INTERNATIONAL ASSESSORS’ MEETING IN PUNE

NOVEMBER / DECEMBER 2015

BY LESLIE BRADLEY

T

his historic International Assessors’ Meeting lasted three days and had over 100 people in attendance. Geetaji began by giving a history of Guruji’s teaching, explaining how he originally began certifying teachers and how it was a way to propagate yoga. Next, Abhijata read the feedback from a questionnaire that was sent to all countries regarding Iyengar Yoga teacher education programs and assessments.

Each country was asked to give a brief presentation on how teacher education programs are structured in their country along with any problems or questions around teacher training. The following countries gave reports or stated that they had no questions or problems to report: the U.K., South Africa, the U.S., Canada, Germany, New Zealand, Russia, Switzerland, the Netherlands, Japan, Austria, Belgium, Denmark, Hungary, Latvia, Poland, Sweden, Italy, Spain, Israel, Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Mexico, Southeast Asia (representing Thailand, Singapore, Malaysia, Indonesia, Hong Kong, and Bali), and finally China.

Each country was asked to give a brief presentation on how teacher education programs are structured in their country along with any problems or questions around teacher training. Over two separate presentations, I described teacher education in the U.S. and how assessments in the U.S. are conducted, explaining that the process has been continually revised and refined over the past 30 years. On Teacher Education Our teacher training programs attract passionate students looking to deepen their practice and study as well as those interested in teaching. Our teacher education programs are based on our Certification Manual. We have no separate teacher training manual. Our Certification Manual includes the asanas and pranayamas per Guruji’s syllabi, required knowledge and required readings, including philosophy, anatomy, and modifications for menstruation, pregnancy, common ailments, older students, and so on. These requirements deepen and increase by level of assessment. Our manual also includes an extensive reading list from Guruji, Prashantji, and Geetaji. Each candidate for assessment in the U.S. is required to have two recommending teachers, one a mentor, up through Intermediate Junior III. At Intermediate Senior I, candidates are required to have a mentor only. We encourage mentorship in the U.S.

There are three ways our candidates can prepare for certification:

Apprenticeship and study with a mentor— this is important,

especially in more remote areas of the U.S. A two- or three-year teacher training program

A combination of both

Even individuals going through a teacher training program are required to have two recommending teachers.

Our manual is updated yearly based on feedback from both assessors and candidates. We have a convention where assessors meet every three years. As has been suggested, a yearly meeting would be preferable, but a yearly in-person meeting would be cost-prohibitive.

On Certification and Assessment In this presentation, I thanked Guruji for continuing to inspire us all, as well as Prashantji, Geetaji, and Abhijata, and I shared the following information about our system.

The certification chair is a position democratically elected by the assessors. A new chair apprentices for one year with the previous chair, serves for two years on his or her own, and then serves the last year of the term while training the incoming chair. The Certification Committee is chosen by the chair, with an attempt to represent different geographical areas, just as the IYNAUS board has regional representation.

In 2015, we had over 250 certification candidates in 26 assessments for five levels. There were eight Introductory II assessments, 11 combined Introductory I and II assessments,

four Intermediate Junior I assessments, two Intermediate Junior II assessments, and one Intermediate Junior III assessment. The pass rate at the lower levels was close to 90 percent. Anyone who is wait-listed has top priority for the next year.

Our assessments take place over a full weekend with a maximum of 12 candidates. At the higher levels, we try to keep the number of candidates to a maximum of 10. The teaching time is 40 minutes. At the Junior II level and above, it increases to 50 minutes. Candidates are not expected, in an assessment situation, to work with students with physical issues until the Intermediate Junior II assessment.

For each assessment, we try to assemble assessors from different geographical regions. Mentors, recommending teachers, and teacher educators are asked not to assess their own students. Therefore, we try not to schedule assessments in students’ own towns, which means our association incurs airfare expenses. In general, congeniality among our assessors is increased by serving with each other. There are many positive aspects to the current U.S. assessment process as well as some challenging concerns.

Of particular note, we are concerned about how the assessment process may be affecting teaching in regular classrooms. Assessment asks candidates to demonstrate every asana they are assigned to teach, sometimes more than once, with a lot of explanation so that assessors can check their knowledge. This style of teaching is less dynamic and, in fact, can be somewhat dry or scripted. Iyengar Yoga in the U.S. continues to be relatively unknown compared with some of the other forms, or is known as a yoga for those who are aging or have physical issues. This, no doubt, is based partially on our reputation for working individually and therapeutically with our students. We are concerned that perhaps it is also dry or scripted teaching that makes Iyengar Yoga less appealing to younger students.

Details on all of the concerns I presented in Pune can be found online at https://iynaus.org/sites/iynaus_files/pages/ International-Assessors-Meeting-Notes-Dec-2015.pdf.

Geetaji and Prashantji’s Response From the first day of the meeting, Geetaji and Prashantji made comments after each country reported. Geetaji suggested that while we don’t need to propagate yoga any more, we should be doing outreach by teaching in schools, universities, and hospitals. She also wanted to make sure that our teachers, especially the senior and higher-level teachers, are not just conducting teacher training but are teaching classes open to the general public, the elderly, overweight people, etc. Prashantji spoke about the importance of being tolerant of students who have been exposed to other forms yoga, and he also talked about whether we are being followers of Guruji or students of Of particular note, we are concerned about how the assessment process may be affecting teaching in regular classrooms. Assessment asks candidates to demonstrate every asana they are assigned to teach, sometimes more than once, with a lot of explanation so that assessors can check their knowledge. This style of teaching is less dynamic and, in fact, can be somewhat dry or scripted.

Guruji. He said that when a student only attends a workshop or a convention, they become a follower; they lack the commitment of a student. Also, the teacher who only has followers (only teaches workshops) lacks commitment to their students. He emphasized that we should all be students of yoga. Representatives from different countries spoke up to confirm that those senior teachers who are conducting teacher training must also teach public classes.

When discussing the various ways new teachers receive training, Birjoo Mehta, a senior teacher from Mumbai, asked the entire group to take a poll on whether they preferred formal training vs. mentorship for new teachers. About 36 voted for formal training programs and over 70 voted for a mentorship system.

Several countries’ reported on difficulties with politics in their assessment system. Geetaji said that we have to work on that. On many occasions, she came back to the theme that the heritage of Guruji is to promote yoga, not certificates. We have to be students before we are teachers. Prashantji added that we must not be dogmatic in our approach. He said that Light on Yoga (published in 1966) will be 50 years old this year. He said that it was already antiquated in 1967 as Guruji’s practice and teachings were ever-evolving— because he never stopped being a student.

Among many other interesting points, Geetaji repeated the theme that being a student and practitioner is more important than becoming a teacher, noting that students should first find good health and not force themselves according to the syllabus, and that teacher trainers have to understand that asana is not only physical. Only focusing on physicality builds up the ego, she said, which enhances the kleshas. In his closing remarks, Prashantji expressed heartfelt gratitude to the assessors and teacher trainers for carrying out the assessment process with extreme devotion to Guruji.

Leslie Bradley (Intermediate Senior I) is the current IYNAUS Certification Chair.

Here are the names of those who passed an assessment in 2015. Our method provides ongoing education for teachers at every level. Congratulations on your hard work and dedication!

Intermediate Junior III Maria Calabria Holly Hoffman Lori Lipton Ritland Becky Lloyd Koren Paalman Todd Semo Tamarie Spielman Holly Walck Kostura

Intermediate Junior II Jessica Becker Lisa Beckwith Wolf Doerthe Braun Waraporn Cayeiro Barbara Fabbri Aaron Fleming Priscilla Gilmore Dora Hasenbein Debra Johnson Patricia Kalman Robin Lowry Ann McDermott-Kave Lori McIntosh Tal Messica Melinda Morey Marj Rash Suzanne Simon David Slack Susan Turis Rebecca Weisman Jennie Williford David Yearwood

Intermediate Junior I Suzana Alilovic-Schuster Elisa Aueron Jennifer Waterbury Beaumont Tara Bernstein Christopher Briney Amy Brown Yvonne Caro-Caro Jerry Chiprin Alex Cleveland Rachel Frazee Susan Friedman Anne Geil Marisa Gentler Shaaron Honeycutt Steve Hornbacher Jill S. Jones Jeanne Kennedy Efrat Laie-Gang Kate Marshall-Chase Carol Nichols Michele L. Pearson Naomi Reynolds Judy Rosenzweig Amy Rumbel Paige Seals Ann Margaret Socha Suneel Sundar Javier Wilensky Mary Wixted Angie Woyar Kimberly Zanger Mackesy Lorene Zant

Introductory I & II Sara Agelasto Alison Ahern Jayne Alenier Rose Alexander Elena Alikina Lena Ang-Silverman Lou Asselin Vanessa Bacher Erin Bailey Denise Baker Afsaneh Bakhtiar Jarad Barkeim Stephanie Barnes-Castro Kristine Bell Edwin Bergman David Berson Amita Bhagat LeAnn Billups Kim Blitch Michele Bohbot Megan Bowles Susan Brower Anne Brower Jeffrey Brunner David Carpenter Michael Carpenter Izabel Carsalade Nina Carson Susan Carter Alfonso Castano Sandra Castellano Jane Caulfield-Cerchiaro Barbara Chiancone Gitlin Yoon Cho Thecla Chomicz May Mei Chong Anita Chordia Ute Johanna Claassen Joanna Colwell Ryan Conrad Samuel Cooper Richard Corsillo Cara Couch Carmen Coyle Keith Crosslin Sheri Cruise Chris Cruz-Boone David Culhane Paula Curtis Mike Dalcher Mariso de Colsa Christine De Lazzero Joy DeClerk LaLanne Delis Gwendolyn Derk Angelique DeSilva Diane Doran-Sheehy Sonia Dovedy Sara Easterson-Bond Jeanne Elliott Susan Elena Esquivel Jerry Farmer Yelena Faynburd Sascha Ferguson Carmen Fitzgibbon Kate Flock Robert Tokusho Flory Elizabeth Ford Lucy Geever-Conroy Rhonda Geraci Michelle Gindele Laurel Goeke Claude Goldstein Melissa Hagen Christie Hall Dana Hanizeski Rebecca Haralabatos Barbara Harris M. Lue Hartman Scarlett Headley Kimberley Healey JB Herndon Anna Hindell Shivayogi Hiremath Sally Hoesing Marleen Hunt Alison Jackson Monika Jaeckle Tina Jen Lisa Johnson Cory Johnston Stacie Jones Meritaton Rose Kamego Ellen Kaplan Neta Katz Erin Kennedy Kristen Kepnick Kathy Krain Jessica Kuhar Jennie Laggis Susan Lamberson David Larsen Katherine LaSpina Alvin Lau Stephanie Lavender Molly Lesmeister Jimena Lieb JR Lill Alison Lintal Ananda Ma Mike MacDonald Samantha Madero Tricia Mahler Kris Manjapra Nancy Marcy Theresa Marks Maureen Martin Amy Massat Melva Max William McKee Josephine McKendry Mona McNeely Christine Miyachi Natalia Momchilova Sandee Moreta Nicole Murphy Elizabeth Muzkya Popsi Narasimhan Rebecca Neal Jennifer Neil Layla Newman Paige Noon Amy Pachowicz Mimi Pajo Michal Palzewicz Fritz Partlow Bhavi Patel Dana Perkins Tanya Petrovna Liat Philipson K. Clark Phipps Erica Quam Renee Razzano Annie Rosen Jeneth Rundle Jean Saad Jacqueline Salvesen David Santucci Barb Sato Thea Satrom Birgit Scharrer Reimer Kimberly Scott Mary Scott Leigh Seacord Melanie Shatto Erin Shawgo Marilyn Dale Shields Nina Siemaszko Gabrielle Sigal Myra Slepoy Anna Spanopoulos Pam Spencer Amy Sprys Shanti Subramanian Ute Swerdloff Tammy Talarico Roberta Tewes Ashley Thayer Laura Thieck Christine Thompson Lauren Thompson Robin Thorpe Jennifer Tigli Lizet Tirres Lisa Tsetse Amy Van Mui Jessica Vega Patricia Videgain Mimi Visser Emmanuelle Vital Casandra Walters Xinzhen Wang Rahel Regina Wasserfall Beate Weidemann Melissa Weinberger Loren Welsh Mia Wigmore Sharon Wilkes Shane Willis Vickie Wofford Susan Wong Irene Wong-Bushby Galit Yair Chen-Chi Yeh Jessica Yoder

BY DEBORAH BAKER

In the final week of March, our national community lost a wonderful, longtime teacher, disciplined student, and devoted volunteer to the IYNAUS Board, most recently as vice president. She was just 54 years old. Lynda Alfred died from complications of the blood cancer multiple myeloma, having been first diagnosed in April 2015.

Lynda was a courageous and tenacious practitioner of Iyengar Yoga and Certified Iyengar Yoga Teacher at the Junior Intermediate I level. She not only practiced on her mat and as a teacher but also in her work as a community organizer, nonprofit consultant, and fundraiser beginning in 1986 in the areas surrounding Montrose, Telluride, and Olathe, Colorado. A passionate advocate for the environment, she worked on toxic waste issues as a grant writer and fulfilled many roles in the fight against corporate polluters. She lived her yoga.

Lynda was a devoted mother of two children, Kelsey and Bryce, and was married to Tom Howe.

I first met Lynda in 1997, and we bonded immediately as we discussed the many challenges of balancing motherhood with the demands of maintaining an Iyengar Yoga practice. Leaving babies and toddlers behind in order to spend a few days studying with Manouso Manos in Crested Butte felt at once liberating and incredibly irresponsible. We were relieved when Manouso shared past stories of his own twins and joked that he had learned to interrupt an asana, run across the room and wipe a runny nose, and then resume that asana. He also reminded us, paraphrasing Mr. Iyengar, that our children are our yoga. Lynda and my eyes locked at this moment, and we both smiled in relief and agreement.

As a dedicated student of Iyengar Yoga, Lynda often drove many hours to participate in countless senior Iyengar Yoga teacher workshops. She regularly traveled to Hotchkiss, Colorado, to study with her mentor, Nancy Stechert, and to Denver to participate in teacher education there. She studied yearly with Patricia Walden in Durango and had countless friends in all the communities where she studied.

Yoga was a profound part of her life. She was grateful to be a recipient of the Karin O’Bannon scholarship, which enabled her to travel to Pune, India in 2009.

Lynda’s studio, the Uncompahgre Yoga Circle, was named for the majestic peak, river, and plateau surrounding her home in western Colorado. It stood the test of time as numerous new studios popped up in the surrounding communities. She remained devoted to the yoga of B.K.S. Iyengar, understanding its scale, depth, and magnitude.

Cancer is a cruel and nondiscriminating disease. Lynda was one of the most disciplined, conscientious people I knew. She lived an unusually healthy lifestyle, spending countless hours outdoors with her family, hiking, camping, and backcountry skiing. She ate the “anticancer diet” many years before this became the title of best-selling books on nutrition. She practiced good health with her body, her mind, and her spirit.

Raised in Cleveland, Ohio, Lynda moved west after graduating from Princeton University. She discovered yoga at a young age and was fortunate to have her family as the center of her life. She wanted to survive so that she could return to doing the things she loved to do and be with the people she loved. Lynda demonstrated an ability to face her suffering and hardship resolutely. She can be a teacher to us all, as she practiced what our Guruji often referred to as equanimity, even in the face of these challenges.

We love you, and we miss you very much, Lynda!

Deborah Baker is a Certified Iyengar Yoga Teacher at the Introductory level and owns the Park Hill Yoga studio in Denver, CO. She is herself currently undergoing treatment for Lymphoma, another type of blood cancer.

AN OPEN DOOR

BY CARLYN SIKES

“The man has now become another and is neither himself nor

his own.” —Plotinus

I began taking yoga classes back in the early 1990s after noticing one day how much more stiff and less mobile I was from my modern dance days. I had taken dance lessons as a child and went on to major in dance in undergraduate and graduate school. At this time, I was teaching dance as well as working in the fitness industry in various capacities. I began to take a yoga class from one of the teachers at the community college where I taught and really enjoyed it. An opportunity to teach yoga presented itself, and I began to look for ways to learn more.

Carlyn and her quarter horse Murphy

My supervisor suggested Iyengar Yoga, so I began taking asana classes with Carol Mitchell, the only person teaching Iyengar Yoga in the Phoenix metro area at that time. The sheer physical aspect of the classes caught my interest right away. And while I also began to notice, almost immediately, changes in how I felt from the Iyengar Yoga class beyond the physical, I did not pay as much attention to that aspect. Carol did introduce some of the philosophy, but most of that went over my head in the beginning. I continued with Iyengar Yoga because of the physical changes that I saw, but a subtle change in my mental state began to occur as well.

Because of the class’s location, I was unable to continue studying with Carol. I then became involved with a yoga practice group and took other types of yoga classes. For many years, yoga was about competitive asana practice and the personal triumph that comes when you “own” a difficult pose. When I joined the practice group, we spent time practicing asanas, working toward solutions— and ultimately working toward transformation. Unfortunately, while that was an early mission of the group, the reality was that I spent a lot of time looking at others and trying to keep up rather than looking at myself. I began to get frustrated because nothing much was actually changing. missing. I realized that I wanted a practice that could make me a better person rather than something that was just another physical pursuit that did not bring anything more substantial to the table. I spent some time thinking more deeply about why I continued to practice yoga and recalled the sense of well-being that I had originally experienced when taking classes with Carol Mitchell. Soon thereafter, I ended my affiliation with the practice group and committed myself to Iyengar Yoga. In addition to my ongoing asana practice, I began to read the Yoga Sutras and develop other aspects of practice. I began to look more deeply at myself, and that is when the real changes began.

A Rough Start I have seen a counselor more on than off for the past 20 years or so to help me sort things out and make better choices. One of the root causes for my difficulties in life was a less-thanfunctional upbringing. It wasn’t a terrible family, but there was anger and negativity in the household that made it difficult to maneuver as I was growing up. I remember after a ballet class once, I came home and announced to my father that I would open a dance studio one day. His response to me was, “You’ll never do that.” It was hard to be nine years old and be told “never!” I have been determined and single-minded all my life, but my upbringing made it more difficult to cultivate any natural confidence or positive beliefs I had.

I have worked to come to terms with my childhood as an adult— after making some very disastrous choices and living a half-life for many years. At different times in my life, I have suffered from situational anxiety and depression, neither of which is part of my basic nature. I have been untruthful about who I am so I could simply put on a good face. I didn’t want people to know I was so dismantled inside, and I thought I could hide it by not being altogether honest. I have made terrible choices in my personal relationships that have taken a great deal of effort to move beyond. I went at half-steam for so many years, not really getting anywhere significant and becoming increasingly frustrated as I struggled to improve my circumstances. My life has been about finding the person I was

meant to be, and yoga has been at the heart of that search over many years.

Throughout this process, I have always maintained a daily yoga practice. It has certainly been a lengthy process, but by sticking with it, I have experienced many changes beyond the physical. Somewhere along the way, I began to feel less frustrated, and more important, I began to develop confidence in myself and in my natural abilities— and I continue to learn more clearly what those are. I have become more accepting of my limitations and personality quirks, as well. Iyengar Yoga has brought about this transformation.

My Ongoing Journey I continue to speak with a counselor every so often, and I have a fabulous job teaching yoga full time at a community college. It’s a job that encourages continuous growth as I develop a deeper knowledge of the yoga practice that I love. I recently moved to a farm property outside of the city where I ride horses, enjoy nature, and continue to practice yoga. The transformation that continues to come through Iyengar Yoga practice has brought incredible healing of old, sad memories, but it has also brought the ability to consider a positive future. First, the Iyengar family hosted the three-day international meeting of assessors, then the 10-day Anushanam Convention, then a fantastic celebration of the life of Mr. Iyengar on Dec. 14. These Pune events were exhilarating. But the Iyengars weren’t done. Everyone was invited to visit Bellur, the village of Guruji Iyengar’s birth, to celebrate the inauguration Mr. Iyengar, through his own discipline and devotion to this subject, discovered a way to help people develop a practice that would change them for the better. Whether it is a precise way to straighten the leg, improve a knee condition, or develop a deeper connection to the source, Iyengar Yoga provides a path. The shifts in consciousness I’ve experienced are not fleeting but permanent and meaningful.

For me, Iyengar Yoga has been an open door for progress and healing through shoulder, knee, and back injuries, but most important, it’s been an open door for healing deep-seated emotional pain. This ongoing practice of asana— my open door— has lead me to the other limbs of Patanjali’s Ashtanga yoga path and has encouraged and supported me in an ongoing and continuous journey of transformation. My life just continues to get better.

Carlyn Sikes (Intermediate Junior I) is the Yoga Program Director at Scottsdale Community College. She has an MFA in dance and lives in Queen Creek, AZ, with her son Jeremy,

REPORT FROM Bellur

DECEMBER 2015: AN INCREDIBLY RICH MONTH AT RIMYI

BY HEATHER HAXO PHILLIPS

eight dogs, two horses, and a donkey.

campus established by

the Bellur trust.

Bellur is a small village approximately 90 minutes drive from Bangalore. The contrast between tech-savvy Bangalore and pastoral

Bellur could not be more

Pictures at the front of the yoga hall in Bellur, from where the Iyengars taught. The Mandala was one of the fundraisers done for Bellur. It was made by San Diego artist Veronique Porter and donated by Guruji. stark. The village of Bellur is surrounded by farms and grazing land.

Driving up the road

The Grand Yoga Hall at night — Bellur

Guruji’s philanthropy was such an important part of his mission in life, and it inspires us to follow his path of service.

Center” and with pictures of Guruji. As we pulled up to the campus gates, the children who attend the school established by the Bellur Trust were there to greet us, their beautiful uniforms and graceful smiles infusing each of us with energy after our long journey from Pune and other points abroad.

For me, the road to Bellur was also emotionally moving. Guruji’s philanthropy was such an important part of his mission in life, and it inspires us to follow his path of service. Selfless service is such an important part of what we do, inspired by Guruji. Over the years, my community in the Bay Area— and other Iyengar Yoga communities across the globe— has raised thousands of dollars for his projects in Bellur. It was a dream come true to be able to see the projects in person.

charge of the project who had come to RIMYI to meet with Mr. Iyengar and many others about the plans. I had the good fortune to sit with the architect, pouring over the blueprints of the Bellur hall and the new San Francisco Institute, discussing the commonalities of two Iyengar Yoga projects half a world away from each other. All the way to his passing, Guruji followed the Bellur Yoga Hall project very closely, and it was his wish that we all continue the legacy of yoga in Bellur.

The yoga hall is a breathtaking structure to see. Its high ceilings capture the breeze, with many large windows to look out onto the countryside, and it contains a stunning picture of Guruji. Unlike at RIMYI in crowded moments, there is plenty of room for everyone who wants to participate— a huge main hall and a large side room for props. The yoga hall is fresh and inspiring in every way, pleasing to the body, mind, and soul. Even the bathrooms are lovely!

Near the yoga hall is a large dining hall. Enclosed to shade us from the elements, it is also open air with incredible vistas of the farmland and the village of Bellur itself.

Attached to the yoga hall is a dormitory built for Indian and international visitors who want to come for yoga retreats. Already there is room for 40 students, with plans for more

We laughed and cheered for several hours as children of all ages danced, sang, and played music. It was an astounding feat of coordination and practice.

lodging in the works. With broad vistas on all sides and a large roof, the dormitories offer excellent opportunities for bird watching and viewing the nighttime stars— a unique and peaceful setting for all who may choose to spend the night.

Nearby are the facilities built over the past few decades— a high school, college, hospital, and more. Indeed, with the completion of this latest project, the Bellur Trust has truly established a campus of higher learning and health. Moreover, the breadth of the area served— at least five villages— and the number of people impacted by the facilities is expansive.

We had three days to enjoy the campus. On the first night, we were greeted by an incredible yoga display from the children of Bellur. Their troupe did every single pose in Light on Yoga, including many variations that can only be seen in the RIMYI archives! The attendees were treated to speeches from a variety of local dignitaries and got to hear more about the history and future of the Bellur projects.

The next morning, Geetaji taught a mega-class of asana and pranayama. It appeared that nearly 250 participants gathered together— and there was plenty of room for all of us. Many came from all over India, some sporting fun yoga t-shirts from their own community. It was so special to be able to practice together. Geeta started her class by bringing the Bellur children up front for further lessons. She clarified some of the principles of alignment of Guruji’s method, including how to address special cases and needs. After a brief chai break, we reconvened for a pranayama class. The experience of going inward during the most auspicious occasion— together with hundreds of Iyengar Yoga devotees from around the world in this special yoga hall— was particularly memorable.

That afternoon, we gathered for an incredible cultural event put on by the children of the area. It seemed that the entire village of Bellur and several surrounding villages were in attendance either as participants or adoring fans. We laughed and cheered for several hours as children of all ages danced, sang, and played music. It was an astounding feat of coordination and practice.

The next day, Prashantji treated us to asana class. In a jovial, welcoming mood before the diverse crowd, Prashantji exhorted us in Svastikasana to connect the mind to the heart, via the

The children’s yoga demonstration during the opening celebrations

throat. In classic Prashant fashion, he invited us to consider the purpose of each pose and asked us to determine why we were doing a pose in order to decide how to approach it. Everyone got a good taste of the philosophical, self-aware Iyengar Yoga experience that Prashantji brings to us.

In between events, we were invited to the village to view the numerous temples, including the Patanjali temple, Hanuman temple, and others. We got to participate in several pujas and wander the streets meeting those who live there. We felt truly welcomed by the people of Bellur as they invited us into their homes, introduced us to the family cows and goats, and enjoyed taking pictures together.

Every meal was served in the beautiful dining hall. Over bottomless cups of chai, we got to meet each other and have important conversations with our colleagues from all around the world. While we ate, on a screen at one end of the dining hall, there were vintage clips of Guruji teaching over the years. Even this was special, as it featured young yogis who are now senior teachers. We watched the movies together while many shared their memories of those special classes.

Building this yoga hall has been a huge endeavor for the Bellur Trust. It’s clear that a tremendous amount of love and hard work went into every step, and a tremendous amount of fundraising went into the project. And there are high hopes that this is just the beginning. Senior teachers and others from around the world are encouraged to consider hosting a retreat at the new hall.

Heather Haxo Phillips (Junior Intermediate III) is the director of Adeline Yoga Studio and former president of the Iyengar Yoga Institute of San Francisco/Iyengar Yoga Association of Northern California. Please send any thoughts or suggestions to heather@adelineyoga.com.