—windows are two way.
I have been thinking a lot about sight or vision lately. Where
do I see myself in the future? How do I feel about my day to day life? How can
I make more time to practice? And how might these questions be related? I was
regularly taking yoga classes for a year, or maybe three before I understood
the connection between vision/sight and, the word drishti; a beautiful slightly
awkward Sanskrit word that I feel means “sight” or “vision”. It sounds so
simple, and this simplicity holds a profound, potent capacity for a conscious
lifestyle. A drishti can be the literal place that you look during your sun
salutations (on the tip of your nose, according to Mr.Iyengar), that un-moving
spot on the wall when you try to hold a balancing pose like eagle and the
perspective that you experience when you remember the past or think about the
future.
If I ask, why do you practice (and it can be whatever you
practice: yoga, writing, running)? What comes up? What are you looking to your
practice for?
Do you arrive at your yoga mat to get a kick-butt workout,
to foster calm in your mental state, both, or something in between? Identifying
the drishti behind the why you practice can reveal a lot. I kept coming back to
my mat and taking my practice as a yoga teacher, even though my left wrist was
increasingly bothering me. I was
telling my students to listen to their bodies as I was ignoring mine. I fought the injury and I struggled
past the diagnosis—and when I looked closely at what I was doing to myself I
realized my yoga practice was making me miserable. I felt weak, disempowered and injured. A one degree shift in
my drishti has meant the difference between exacerbating my issue and
re-cultivating a nourishing practice.
This translates as practicing deep listening rather than flowing through
someone else’s sun salutations—and often leaving down dog out.
I practice to explore my edges of possibility, to throw my
perspective upside down, crack open preconceived notions and leave them at the
door—at the end I breathe more deeply and step off more fully grounded in
myself. What keeps bringing you back to your practice? When I begin to look at
why I practice I realize that it is an ever-changing, ever moving target.
Sometimes my drishti of life is very, very focused “eye on
the prize”style. When I was making
a living as an actor in New York my personal life would drown in the dishes in
the kitchen sink every time I was working on a show. I can accomplish a lot,
achieving goals quickly—but this has also made it hard to see what is missing
when I feel stuck, as if I couldn't see amazing things that were right in front of my face.
I have spent the last couple years of my life trying to
soften my “life goal drishti” so I can savor the journey while I am on it. I sit longer with questions, quietly observing
what serves me and what does not. What is apparent as you look back on the day or the past year? Sitting here right now in this moment what do you see in front of you? And as you look forward into the future what do you envision?
I came to your site for the granola recipe you posted on Dave Fortson's FB request, then scrolled down and found this. I like what you write about "I practice to explore my edges of possibility, to throw my perspective upside down, crack open preconceived notions and leave them at the door—at the end I breathe more deeply and step off more fully grounded in myself." That's similar to why I practice writing, which comes best when there's "no-mind" no preconceived notions, and when there's "not-I" no personal sense of self--then the ideas flow andI never know where they will take me, but I breath more deeply, as you say, and feel more grounded in my self afterward. Thanks for sharing.
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