And Now, Yoga

Patanjali began his extensive treatise on yoga with a simple expression - “atha yoga-anushasanam” : “now, yoga”

“Now” is an odd way to embark into a deep and elaborate education system that leads the practitioner to transcendence and enlightenment. The word does not indicate ‘beginning’ of a study; it indicates that something came before this. Yet, it is the first sentence in the book.

Scholars insist that Patanjali is referring to the two books that he wrote before his commentary on yoga - his treatise on grammar, and Ayurveda. Some argue that the word was used to keep up with the tradition of using ‘atha’ as an auspicious beginning to ancient spiritual and scientific texts.

Perhaps this is the meaning that Patanjali intended. But a few months into my practice of yoga, I discovered a personal meaning of the phrase: an integration of “now, I’m here” and “I’m here, now”.

“Now, I’m here”

I would like to say that my flow into yoga was a smooth glide, that I was always inclined towards the subtle journey to spirituality and transformation, and progressed into yoga with a graceful gait the moment I was introduced to it. But it didn’t happen quite like that. I approached yoga with desperation, splashing and spluttering frantically in my own skin to find something I can latch on to - something that can help me pick up the splattered pieces of my life and piece them together.

I was in my late 20s and the last decade of my life had been an emotional, mental, psychological and physical rollercoaster. I was too restless to hold a relationship, too undecided to pick a career path - I walked around ravening in compulsions that seemed beyond my control, purposeless and frustrated, throwing tantrums at everyone around me and at universe at large. even though I was considerably hardworking, I was only motivated by a visionless lust for power, validation and significance which I could not find within myself.

All the push and pull of relationships and choices, the constant internal criticism, nagging and angst took a toll on me and threw me into a major physical and psychological breakdown. A knee injury led me into a stretch of illness, depression, anxiety and a deep identity crisis that lasted a few years. I was forced to reevaluate my entire life and choices during this time. Following the upheaval, I began clawing around for any semblance of hope - something to give me purpose, to make me whole again. And that is when Vipassana and yoga came knocking at my door.

Exhausted from constant physical and mental pain and with nothing to lose, I surrendered myself completely into the spiritual journey. along the way, I reluctantly gave up a lot of my previously revered beliefs and opinions, thoughts that I was convinced made me ‘me’, and my very sense of identity. I came to yoga with commitment and clarity. I’m here not for the fear of higher power, but simply because i have glimpsed the immensity and depth of the universe and I choose to be here and explore it further. I’m here to pursue the path of a seeker with dedication, discipline and diligence. I’m here, ready to learn, to experiment, to express and to heal. I’m here and willing to follow the path till the end.

“I’m here, now”

Yoga occurs in the now. The ‘present’ underlines the situation and circumstances that we are facing currently. It is the product of a chain originating from the past, extending into the future. It is a set of conditions that exist around us. It is a story full of beliefs and opinions.

But in the ‘now’ all of these stories cease of have any meaning. Now is a raw experience - organic, alive - that exists beyond the memory of the past and the imagination of the future. ‘Now’ stands all by itself, it is the only moment we know for certain we are experiencing. Right now, this moment is simply and purely only itself - it cannot be anything else, but itself.

Now is the pure realisation of the fragrance of lavender in the garden, the damp smoothness of the grass underneath the feet. It is the melody of the wind rustling through the leaves, and the rich gold-ness of the sunlight falling on the skin. It is separated from the ‘meanings’ and opinions we give to events - meanings are a function of a mind existing in tenses, not a being experiencing the now. It is when we give up the meanings and identities that we glimpse the immense sea of possibilities open to us for the next moment. Now is a miracle all in itself.

When we step utterly and absolutely into the truth of this very moment, there is a relaxation of thoughts, a sense of joy unbridled by external circumstances, an understanding of life as a dynamic rhythm, an evolving melody. The world exists only in the now. Beyond that, it is simply a figment of our projected and remembered imagination.

Perhaps I am stretching too far. Perhaps Patanjali did not mean any of this and barely intended to begin his treatise with an auspicious expression. It does not really matter. Yoga is always evolving with the practitioner. It is both personal and eternal. The next moment will bring me another universe of choices: what I want to do, who I want to be. But for now, I simply choose to be most powerfully and magnificently me: to be alive and be human - creative, vibrant and miraculous.