One of our gurus, Sri Ma, explained our situation in a concise manner. She said, “Spirituality is very simple, it means giving more than you take.”
Everyone who has parented children has heard some version of the refrain, “It ain’t fair.” When our now 22 year-old son, Jahnu, was a little boy and would express this sentiment, I would clarify for him we were trying to be fair but sometimes we needed to make decisions on his behalf that he wouldn’t like. This didn’t necessarily change his attitude because this isn’t something an immature mind can grasp. Still, I felt he deserved an explanation.
Just about a week ago, Jahnu said something interesting in this regard. Ambika and I were reminiscing about a family trip we had all taken, and Jahnu remarked that, as an adult, he had completely forgotten about the outing he had so enjoyed as a boy. In his indomitable style, he concluded, “It’s really f*cked up that you might do so much for your kids and they don’t even remember it.”
Ambika and I laughed, responding that our focus wasn’t on giving-to-get; it was giving because we loved him. Whether he remembered or appreciated what we did was irrelevant. We loved him so we wanted to express our love. Our only hope, which came true, was the love we gave would permeate him regardless of his memory, or even appreciation.
Being a parent is an excellent training ground for what is called seva in yoga. Seva means to selflessly give to others without concern for appreciation or recognition. Also described as karma yoga, it involves acting in a generous manner without anticipation of specific results. We do what we do because it is right, because we care, and then allow the chips to fall as they may.
To give more than we take in relationships, in our lives, can feel unfair. As yogis, we lavish love and respect on the oblivious and unappreciative. And our giving can even be misunderstood, so kindness is suspect and actions outside of the norm are condemned. It can be a struggle when it feels we’re not being adequately recognized or our positivity is not reciprocated. But, this is the path of spirituality. The rewards won’t be found in Facebook likes, they are entirely internal. This is why so few walk the yoga path.
In terms of life being fair, we have all followed energy streams that have gotten us where we are. It can be a challenge to face our own errors and take responsibility. But the way out is through. By facing our choices and admitting our mistakes, we can forgive and forge into a brighter future. We have the ability to shift our orientation to more positive energy streams.
In terms of helping others whose life experience seems unfair, it’s valuable to remember that they, just like you, have followed an energy stream that has brought them to where they are. From the yogic perspective, this includes activity prior to birth circumstances. Few remember where they were before they were born, but just because you don’t remember something doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Just like Jahnu not remembering his childhood experiences.
Others are equally as intelligent and capable as those who believe they are helping. Being less fortunate is often an attitude, and when this held by one who feels superior it jeopardizes true empowerment, which are are defining as the ability to make wise choices and shift into a more positive energy stream.
Let me be perfectly clear: this is not to imply we should not help and aid others during their times of suffering. We have followed an energy stream which brought us into contact with them and, as such, we are intimately related to their suffering. It behooves us to allow our inherent kindness to express itself in making things easier for those in our sphere of influence. Let me also be perfectly clear that helping must include reminding folks of their innate power to change; that they are capable of shifting to more productive energy streams. Compassion is very different from pity. Being helpful is supposed to be enjoyable and fun for all parties.
One more thing: life is not a waiting game. Whatever you can do, do it now. None of us knows when we will die. We are not guaranteed a full nine innings.
I was recently reminded of the reality of death. I had travelled to Pittsburgh to compete in the Powerlifting National Championships. I had a great meet. I hit all nine of my lifts, won a gold medal, and set four world records. I was in a really good mood boarding my flight back home.
Before we took off, the pilot announced there was a 400 mile-long storm system in our path, and that we would be flying west around it, so we would arrive some 40 minutes late. Fine.
About an hour, or so, into the flight I got up to go to the bathroom. As I sat back down and was getting ready to put on my seat belt, we hit heavy turbulence and I flew up from my seat and knocked my head on the luggage compartment. People on the plane hooted and hollered good naturedly, as if we were on a roller coaster ride. Before I could get my belt on, we experienced more turbulence. I was again tossed up and once again knocked into the luggage compartment. The other passengers weren’t quite as boisterous.
Then, before I could get my belt on, the plane did a straight vertical drop for a couple seconds. Pretzels and drinks went flying, and I once more knocked my head. No one was laughing anymore.
Suddenly, the plane turned horizontally and then nose-dived at about a 45 degree angle, plummeting fast. The pilot had lost control of the plane and we were falling dramatically.
I’d only seen plane crash scenes in movies. My first thought as were were falling was, “Wow, this is really happening.” People were screaming in terror. Fortunately, after what seemed like a long time but was probably no more than 10 seconds (which feels like an eternity when your plane is heading down), the pilot got control of the plane and leveled us out. After my initial thought, my mind turned to my mantra. I was still scared, but there was comfort in having something to hold onto besides the horror of a seeming crashing plane. I’m glad the pilot got us back safely, I’m glad to be here in our world, and I’m heartened to know this yoga stuff really works and my mind turned to mantra under severe duress. I ended up with a concussion, but that doesn’t seem like a big deal compared to what could have been.
I put my luggage tag on our refrigerator. It’s a valuable reminder that life will have it’s ups and downs (pun intended) and that it’s a good idea for me to use today as well as I can because I’m really not guaranteed tomorrow. For me, this means following Sri Ma’s advice to give as much as possible for however long I may be around. I have a hunch the world could be a better place if we all remembered the reality of death and committed to pouring our hearts and souls into our lives.
In the spirit of seva, we can offer our love to the highest degree we feel we have in us. We will still make mistakes, but we can try our very best. Whether we are in a situation where we are helpers or being helped, our essential equality remains as our ability to follow the energy streams of our choosing. Sri Ma’s counsel is brilliant because if we seek to give, we will will be happy; opportunities to give are unlimited, and by serving others we develop the ability to tune into energy streams of grace, power, and love.
