Yoga is so much more than making shapes with our bodies. Yoga is a way of living. The Yamas and Niyamas are tenants, or guidelines, that help anchor us in ethical practice and living. They are two of the eight limbs of yoga.
In her book The Yamas & Niyamas, Deborah Adele walks us through the observances, or as she calls them, jewels. Nonviolence is the first Yama and is the foundation of the others to follow. Grounding ourselves in nonviolence puts us in right relationship with ourselves and others so that we can step lightly and do no harm. So much of my work in yoga, writing, with transgender athletes, anti-racism, parenting, partnering, and personal healing comes back to nonviolence at its core. When we hear the word violent, many of us think of physical violence, yet we are learning more and more about the affects of other, more subtle forms of violence. Most of us are not actively, explicitly, overtly physically violent, so our work in nonviolence is to excavate toward how these other, more subtle forms of violence show up in and with us.
Nonviolence is a big enough word that it can be hard to know where to start to practice, but there is no act too tiny to move into right relationship with ourselves and each other. Adele’s breakdown of the first Yama is so helpful. Let’s take a look at the first two themes, with more to come in future posts:
Fear. Fear can create violence in a way that ripples out to others. Part of the work of nonviolence, then, is to turn toward the fear inside of us and take a closer look at it. Adele beautifully distinguishes between the fear that keeps us alive and the fear that keeps us from living. Sometimes as children we take on protective strategies to keep ourselves safe, and as adults we can take a look at those strategies to see if they are still serving our safety or if they are now restricting our vitality and freedom.
Perfectionism is one of those strategies for me. I was not born a perfectionist. Somewhere along the line, I was led to believe that I had to be perfect to be loved, to be taken seriously. As an adult, I have come to see how striving for perfection makes it hard for people to love me. My pretending to not have needs or to not be vulnerable does not give others access to building a mutual relationship with me. Over that last few years, I have taken a look at my fear of rejection, of making a mistake, of having someone mad at me, of being bad at things, of showing vulnerability, of having needs, even my fear of being overweight and explored how these fears are keeping me from living, from exuberance and right relationship and joy. Excavating through my fears is helping ease their hold on me, and the softening in that release feels like the work of nonviolence.
Healing from perfectionism requires me to be compassionate with the little girl who took it on, to thank her, and to assure her that we have outgrown that strategy and are ready to try a way of being that is softer, more vulnerable and more open to love. If we want to create a less violent world, it starts with being courageous. The work of nonviolence in part is to distinguish between the fear that keep us alive and the fear that keeps us from living. To live more fully, we can notice that we are afraid and act anyway, courageously.
What are you afraid of? Is your fear keeping you from living? What is one tiny thing you can courageously do to step into a more full life?
Balance. When we fill our calendars and move too fast and spread ourselves too thin, it is then we get short with people, maybe even lash out. It is then we can forget to care for ourselves well and cut corners on sleep, rest, movement, connection, and nourishment. Speed can do harm to ourselves and others. A balanced self can be more courageous and can move toward nonviolence, can move toward right relationship with ourselves and each other.
Adele writes, “Our calendars reveal the truth of our craziness. The repercussions are inescapable, immeasurable violence to ourselves and those around us. Like the body, the mind and the soul need time to digest and assimilate. Like the body, the mind and the soul need time to rest…Not more clutter but more space, space to reflect, space to journal, space for closure, space for imagination, and space to feel the calling of the life force within us.”
(If you want to do a deep dive into creating more SPACE in your mind, body, being, calendar, closet, and junk drawer, Heidi Barr and I wrote a whole chapter on it in 12 Tiny Things.)
It seems the moment I put down my vigilance around creating space for balance, it fills. Sometimes it fills with clutter, but more often it fills with things that are beautiful and add value, which makes it all the more tricky to navigate. I am a yes person, so I have had to learn how to see that saying yes to one thing is saying no to another. I tend to say yes to too many professional invitations that, although are exciting and invite in meaningful work, lead to my days feeling unbalanced. I used to say yes to things I didn’t want to do. I am better at saying no to those now, but I have also more recently had to say no to some things I do want to do because time in finite. I have had to live into the truth that when I work yeses to things like rest, sleep, deep connection, cuddles, yoga, running, reading, and writing in with the other yeses, the balance and ease in my days is noticeable. I move with more intention, and folks I interact with sense an inner spaciousness and capacity in me to listen and be present. This, too, is the work of nonviolence, of living into right relationship with myself and others.
Where do you crave more space in your life? What is one tiny step you could take toward slowing down and practicing balance as nonviolence?
Beautiful summary! I’m craving more space in the evenings and am looking forward to the change in seasons and moving indoors more.