Week Two - Santosha, Grounded Gratitude

Hello everyone,

I hope you are well and settling into these calm and chilly October days. I want to say a big thank you to everyone who made it for our first round of classes for the new term last Sunday at Thrive! We have two yoga practices every week in Greystones - an empowering Hatha flow at 5pm, and a spacious and stretchy Yin at 6:30pm. For our term philosophy theme this month we are exploring the niyamas, five age-old yogic principles for enhancing our relationship to our inner world. Spiralling inward...which feels very much like what the natural world is doing around us right now. Everything is moving slowly towards an inner orientation; a retreat. What better time to practice deep and quiet breathing?

Let me know if you'd like me to save you a space in either class this Sunday :) We will be exploring the idea of santosha this week, the second niyama in Patanjali's yoga sutras. Santosha is a Sanskrit word that can be translated to 'contentment'. You can expect lots of gorgeous heart-opening poses this week (which will be amazing for posture, stress relief, and circulation) with special time and space carved out for grounding and rest. Keep reading to ponder more on this new niyama of santosha - the wisdom of down to earth gratitude. 

Last week we explored the first niyama of saucha (cleanliness), which is a practice of mental and psychological hygiene; to be present with what is, to not hide from it, and to let your awareness be a sort of purifying force; a light shining in the dark places. Carrying forward from that idea, santosha teaches to not only allow what is, but also to be grateful for what is. To actively look for things that feel satisfying to you, and to forgive what is not. Many philosophy teachers from all schools of thought will say that the conscious act of searching for a feeling of gratitude within the present moment is enough to make most any situation feel lighter and more joyful. However, I love that in traditional yoga there is a nuance and wisdom offered here that may guide us away from potentially misunderstanding the power of positive thinking.

It is very intentional that saucha - the idea of having a clean and pure awareness of what is, without hiding from it - comes before the teachings of gratitude, santosha. There is quite a bit of 'fake' positivity and spiritual bypassing out there in new age philosophy - and in the western yoga world especially - that may harm us into thinking that if we are simply grateful and positive all the time - regardless of how we really feel - life will be magical. Just think positive! Blaaaaaah. But the truth is, this doesn't always work.

The niyamas offer us a concept of gratitude and contentment that is contingent on first being honest with yourself about how you really feel, and then forgiving yourself and the situation. Allowing what is - a key step. This is the saucha part, cleanliness. Then, perhaps, from that place of honesty and forgiveness, your awareness can wander more easily towards things that truly feel to you like windfalls, like precious gifts. Things that are actually satisfying, and lighten your heart to think about. Suddenly, a deep breath can feel like a powerful tonic. You might sit up taller and feel emotional about the gift of your spine, the strength of your body, the subtle vitality in your energy. Your heart might even swell to think of all the people that you love, of all the blessings that you receive daily, and you may finally see through the falsity of lack - and know that you are enough. But the awareness and allowing quality has to come first, I think. We shine a light in the dark, have a look around, and take that moment to wrap our arms around our heart. Then, maybe, after this honest release - we can shift our attention consciously towards what feels a bit better, to what makes our heart sing, to what we are grateful for, and maybe begin to settle into a calm and present sense of contentment. Santosha. 

I am sending all of my light your way! I hope to see you soon :) 

'Windfall' by Paul Durcan

But, then, at the end of day I could always say -

Well, now, I am going home.

I felt elected, steeped, sovereign to be able to say -

I am going home.

When I was at home I liked to stay at home;

At home I stayed at home for weeks;

At home I used sit in a winged chair by the window

Overlooking the river and the factory chimneys,

The electricity power station and the car assembly works,

The fleets of trawlers and the pilot tugs,

Dreaming that life is a dream which is real,

The river a reflection of itself in its own waters,

Goya sketching Goya among the smokey mirrors.

The industrial vista was my Mont Sainte-Victoire.

While my children sat on my knees watching TV

Their mother, my wife, reclined on the couch

Knitting a bright-coloured scarf, drinking a cup of black coffee,

Smoking a cigarette - one of her own roll-ups.

I closed my eyes and breathed in and breathed out.

It is ecstasy to breathe if you are at home in the world.

What a windfall! A home of our own!

Our neighbours' houses had names like 'Con Amore',

'Sans Souci', 'Pacelli', 'Montini', 'Homesville'.

But we called our home 'Windfall'.

'Windfall', 8 Parnell Hill, Cork.

In the gut of my head coursed the leaf of tranquility

Which I dreamed was known only to Buddhist Monks

In lotus monasteries high up in the Hindu Kush.

Down here in the dark depths of Ireland,

Below sea level in the city of Cork,

In a city as intimate and homicidal as Little Marseilles,

In a country where all children of the nation

Are not cherished equally

And where the best go homeless, while the worst

Erect block-house palaces - self-regardingly ugly -

Having a home of your own can give to a family

A chance in a lifetime to transcend death.

Le grá,

Macha