Value

On Maha Shivaratri, “The Great Night of Shiva,” yogis stay awake all night chanting in order to invoke and evoke divine compassion. We have honored Shivaratri for 25 years at our Kailash Ashram in Vermont. One time, several years ago, around 3:00 am, I hit my wall. I was tired, tired, tired. I no longer cared about compassion or, honestly, anything at all besides sleep. My mind wasn’t on the Divine; the only things I was contemplating were the cool sheets and schnuggly pillow of my bed. It was still a couple of hours before dawn when we would conclude the chanting and I was fading fast.

Suddenly, the thought popped into my mind, “If someone offered me $10,000 to chant until dawn, could I stay awake?” I concluded, easily, “Yes.” Then I thought, “Would I make it for $5000?.” Again, “Yes.” I kept whittling down the price by half, “How about $2500? $1250? $625?” I recognized at each price tag that I could stay awake if I felt justly rewarded. I eventually made it down to about $200 when the scales tipped and I would choose sleep rather than cash.

At that point, I was embarrassed at being such a cheapskate. I chuckled to myself that my devotion and commitment could be bought for a measly $200! I concluded that if I could stay awake for a couple of hundred bucks, certainly I could stay awake for the sake of compassion. I did so and learned a valuable lesson about motivation and values.

Everyone experiences time-based obligations. There is a need to be at work or school at a definite time, the airplane takes off on a certain schedule, or the movie begins as advertised. We accept these obligations and find a way to fulfill them. When it comes to our sadhana, our spiritual practice, we are less committed.

If your boss requires you to be at work on time and you fail to show up, there are consequences. He doesn’t care if you were tired because you stayed up late the night before, or even if you just weren’t in the mood to work that day. Mess up, and you pay the price. When the guru tells you to wake up in the morning and do your sadhana, there often is not the same sense of obligation. Being tired, bored, agitated, or not in the mood, take on a level of legitimacy that isn’t permitted in our material and social lives.

We don’t miss work because we honor the value of our paycheck. We don’t arrive late for the flight because we know the plane will leave without us. We don’t keep our date waiting because we don’t want to be alone for Valentine’s Day. We do, however, feel free to skip our sadhana if we don’t find it convenient or attractive.

I understand the reluctance to engage in sadhana. It’s hard. Really hard sometimes. Getting up early in the morning is rarely fun. Plus, the initial stages of sadhana, when the buried subconscious material is brought to the surface, is even less fun. Who wants to sit and deal with their anger, guilt, greed, loneliness, fear, and shame? Yogis, that’s who. Because we know the path to the light is through the darkness.

I think many people are reluctant to practice sadhana because they are concerned it might not really work. After all, there are so many hustles in the world. Seems like everyone — politicians, religious leaders, even parents — want us to fall in line with their beliefs. They don’t want our freedom, they want our coalescence and cooperation. Look at the yogis, though, see their health and happiness; try to recognize they don’t have anything to sell. They are in the business of giving. They give the tools that can bring about healing and growth.

I also think people avoid sadhana because on a deep level they are afraid to fail. We have all failed at so many things, both seemingly large and small. To undertake a spiritual path and come up short might be the most painful disappointment of all. Better, it might be felt, to avoid trying than suffer the pain of failure. To this attitude, I say: “Fuhgeddaboudit!” Do not listen to that voice of fear and cowardice. You will succeed. Try and see. You have resources inside that you have yet to tap. Give yourself a chance to be as great as you know, on a deep level, you have the potential to be. Give yourself a chance to be as wonderful as I know you are.

On a practical level, here are some hints for developing and sustaining a sadhana. First, be realistic. Start slow and allow your practice to organically develop over time. Even if you begin with a simple 10 minutes a day, you will have practiced for some 60 hours by the end of the year. You can’t help but heal and grow if you put that much time into yourself. At some point, you will find yourself eager to practice sadhana because it is so intrinsically enjoyable. Until then, recognize sadhana as an essential daily responsibility like brushing your teeth. Even if you’re not performing the function for your own benefit, others will appreciate your effort.

Second, reward yourself for your practice. Drop a dollar or two into a jar after each session. Use that money at the end of a given time to treat yourself to something you wouldn’t ordinarily purchase, or make a donation to a charity you support. You can also reward yourself with a cup of coffee, or something. Anything to get you motivated and to acknowledge you are accomplishing a great task.

Finally, I know it’s hard to wake up early in the morning. However, most people will find that if they don’t perform their sadhana first thing, the day has a way of getting away and before you know it, bedtime has come without sadhana. For many years, I roused myself from bed in the morning with the promise that all I had to do was go to the bathroom. If I wanted to return to bed after that, I would give myself permission to do so. Once I made it to the bathroom, I would splash my face, and voilà, I found myself much more awake than just a few minutes before. Then, instead of a return to bed, it was easy to sit and meditate. A splash of cool or cold water on the face, hands, and even feet can wake one up quite quickly.

These are just a few ideas about making sadhana feasible and practical. You can also arrange a specific place, creating a shrine in your home that reflects your intentions. Decorate it with whatever images inspire you. Burn candles, incense, whatever. Make it a cool place that gets you psyched to travel within. Don’t try and pour yourself into a mold generated by someone else. Allow your spiritual path to express your yearning and aspirations.

In the Bhagavad Gita, one of the quintessential yoga texts, the teacher explains to his student that only one in 10,000 people will even attempt spiritual healing and growth in this lifetime. Though the numbers are not specific, the general notion is that it is a rare and profound individual who recognizes the importance of sadhana in their life. I sincerely encourage you to be one of these people. The world desperately needs your growth and healing. Begin or continue your regular sadhana. I promise, truly, you will never be sorry for the time you spend in authentic spiritual practice. You might even find yourself staying up all night, praying for compassion and, um, unlike “some of us,” not even need to be paid for it to make sense.