Obligations and Frivolity

 Post (from my friend Harrison): I just finished one of those gargantuan yet utterly banal tasks that had it not been done would have wreaked havoc and having now been completed is more or less unnoticeable by anyone other than myself.

Response (from one of Harrison’s friends I don’t yet know): You just described every day of my life since becoming a stay-at-home-mother.

My response: Nityakarmas

Nityakarmas are the things you gotta do.  They are obligatory.  Doing them rarely gets you a pat on the back.  Not doing them raises stakes you’d probably rather not be raising.  The goal is to not spend a lot of time worrying about them.  Their ‘opposite’ is called kamyakarma, the acts that are born of desire.  They are indulgences, extras.  As tantric yoginis, we have little problem with desire.  Desire is how we all got here.   

I am a mom of a toddler and a yoga teacher of all kinds of people, including expectant moms.  I especially love to teach these mommas, who have chosen to do one of the more expensive, non-necessary actions that an individual human can do. (Having a child, I mean.  Yoga class isn’t that expensive.)  As my Mamaw pointed out when I told her that I was pregnant, we no longer have to have children to work the farm anymore.  There are plenty of people in the world without me making more.  Mamaw has a way with words, and she loves her great-grandson dearly, and she is so happy that he is here.  But it’s true that our population was in no danger of collapsing without his birth.   

Once sweet baby is born, indulgence dissipates (or just gets re-defined).  Even though the baby and parents may be surrounded with beauty and love, the reality of the daily requirements permeates every attitude, thought, and deed.  This can be wearing.  Any ritual, regardless of its object, has a tendency to dry up in the absence of desire. 

Our yoga asks us to be not in just one thing or the other.  It asks us to hold two things together, often seeming opposites.  This is how we live meaningfully in the world, in the midline.     

I recently went to the baby shower of a dear friend.  She is so ready for this baby, and the party was a very special occasion.  All of us moms talked about our pregnancies and births, those subjects that make the men glad they don’t usually get invited to such events.  The shower is a metaphor for the pregnancy, a special time set aside to mark what is important.  As guests, we let her know that we’re here to support her through a transition, to help her align to her new role.  It’s a non-required requirement. 

We call these special occasions naimittika karma, to be done as and when a need arises.  When a friend visits and we take special care of him or her, this is naimittika.  It’s like sitting with the divine.  Hopefully your practice feels this way, a midline or alignment between what you want to do and what you have to do.  It’s what I try to offer as a yoga teacher, particularly for prenatal students, who often are either trying to work up ‘til the very end or take care of another littlun (that’s Kentucky for ‘little one’).     

Babies are desire.  They want, and we want them.  They are obligation.  Not taking care of them results in dire consequences.  They are also naimittika.  I’m using the word ‘commitment’ to describe this midline.  Our commitments are that which we choose to tend to out of the importance and primacy of relationship.  May our practice be that.

I teach prenatal yoga at Abhaya Yoga in Dumbo, Brooklyn on Mondays at noon.  I also teach a couple of other classes on that schedule, too. 

Partnership

Here’s a triad of terms that I’ve been thinking about for the past eighteen months or so: Lust, Relationship, Partnership.  I’ll put it right out there and say I’ll be doing a series of classes on this idea on Fridays at 6PM in February at South Mountain Yoga in New Jersey.  For the sake of the flier, I’ve swapped the word ‘attraction’ for ‘lust’, but you get the idea. 

After seven years of studying this tradition (that’s a common-law marriage where I come from), with a few more years of practicing in the tradition of ‘gym’ thrown in, I’ve realized the value of gaining a bit of knowledge and holding it for some time before I actually know how to use it in a sentence.  Well, a teaching sentence at least. 

In the beginning, all the new ideas were coming at me through the fire hose, and I took what I could and it was all so beautiful and magical.  But, through time, I felt at home with more ideas than not, and the sparks just didn’t fly as fast and furious as they did in the beginning.  There’s still practice and commitment, and it works and it’s sweet and healthy, but it’s also all those things that are regular, everyday, normal, and can dull you out.  I could go days and go through motions and not look directly at what I’m doing.  I know what that looks like.  I’ve seen it a million times. 

Some days, though, I find myself meeting eyes in the mirror with that same commitment.  We’re just brushing our teeth together, same as every day, but then there’s that moment of silently saying to each other, “I’m so glad you live with me.”  And then there’s that other, shockingly electric part of the feeling, where you react in the way you imagine you would to an illicit lover.  Really?  We can still do this to each other?? 

That this is lust, which implies a sense of going out and getting something external and taking it.  Oh, yeah.  Lust is at its most desirous when the thing you’re taking is not yours.  This is not problematic in and of itself.  None of us would be here without the power of attraction, of urgency toward something we want. 

But it turns problematic when we think that that’s all there is.  We become like the god Indra, whose successes always come from conquering something external.  When success is only externally-generated, all there is to do is to repeat, vicious-cycle style.  Materialism applies to people, things, even spirituality.  Regardless of how many trainings you do or lovers you have, if you’re only taking – not receiving – you’ll just end up doing the same thing over and over.  No matter who else is there, if you’re taking it’s always still just you, all by yourself. 

Beyond lust lies relationship.  If lust is taking, then relationship is give-and-take.   It’s you and the mirror, which tells you something about how to align, how to make the sacred.  It’s all of the drawing of boundaries and learning “This, not that.  Here, not there.  Now, not then.”  Relationship is the generic term that we use any time two people (or a person and a thing) are in close proximity to each other.  Sometimes, relationship is there regardless of whether any lust is or not.  It can be dessicated and still be a relationship. 

But what it does do, juicy or not, is show us more about ourselves.  We can learn and grow and reap value.  We become successful at what we’re doing, but the peril is that we might get to the point where we go, “Oh, I get it.”  There can be a tendency to look at something in the mirror and see what we think we already know.  Everything fits, nothing more to see here. 

This third term in the triad is partnership.  This is the model of getting up and feeling and aligning again today and knowing that you’ll do it again tomorrow.  It’s not one party taking, it’s a mutual taking.  By receiving another person, we are received.  And sometimes it’s not until the millionth-and-one-time of hearing something that you actually know how to use it.  It becomes wisdom.  For instance, I’ll enter my second decade of marriage with my spouse this year.  It’s been only since just last year that I figured out that he loved me unconditionally.  He’s always been doing it.  I just now knew that I knew it. 

I’m real proud of how far we’ve come as a greater community with ending friendships and marriages and ties to schools of yoga.  I see a lot of great co-parenting and blended extended families that have dealt with divorce.  My parents’ divorce in the eighties was the classic nightmare – my dad lived three miles away but he might as well have been across the country.  When people go separate ways these days, they write beautiful letters to each other and stay friends on Facebook and make business collaborations.  And maybe that’s a certain way of being a good partner, too. 

Partnership firms things up by enduring.  It makes us more powerful by making us more than ourselves.  The partnership model invites us to not just acquisition and success, but to greatness, which is a demanding place to be.  Whatever you want, whatever you align to, there you will find success.  Greatness is the opportunity to savor that success, day after day.