Last week I mentioned Thich Nhat Hanh’s book Peace Is Every Step, and the need for a “breathing room.” I’ve definitely needed mine this week! After first my laptop and then my desktop computer failed…I started to wonder if electronics could catch COVID-19. Add to that the horror of discovering that my email had been hacked and I was ready to retreat to my breathing room forever!
But…we’ve made it through the first week of April. The sun was shining bright and warm today and the big, beautiful moon is shining almost as bright right now. Trees are budding. Spring flowers are blooming. Easter and Passover are on the way. So…are we there yet? How much longer do we have to keep this up?? Am I the only one asking these questions?!
I keep reminding myself of all I’m grateful for: I am grateful for YOU! Yet, the creep of anxiety is relentless. I set my intention to remain present and mindful, but still find myself “thinking ahead,” which is code for worrying.
Worrying is something that’s a little like breathing for me. Most of the time I do it without even realizing it.
Fortunately for all of us, breathing is part of our autonomic nervous system. We don’t have to concentrate on our lung function in order to inhale or exhale. Heck, we can do it in our sleep!
Of course the quality of a conscious, deep, and full breath (or five!) is much different from the quality of our “unconscious breath.” I think the same must be true of worry.
It is normal to be concerned at times like these. It is natural to pray for those you love, for all those affected by this terrible coronavirus, to meditate on healing, even to devote your yoga practice to developing the strength to endure a pandemic.
Worry, on the other hand, while also totally “normal,” in that it is a common, even “natural” response, has quite a different effect on the body/mind than meditation, yoga, prayer. I tend to feel it in my gut (another part of the autonomic nervous system), and when I take a moment to actually notice the unconscious tension there, I am amazed at how it can constrict my breath, my very spirit.
If I allow it, that is. There is a lot I cannot control. I cannot control anything about this virus. And I admit it: it scares me. I want so badly for everyone I love to be healthy and safe, to be spared. But worrying cannot make that so.
My grandmother Walsh, who lived to be nearly 93 and was lucid and active to the end, once told me a key to her longevity was not worrying about what she could not control. At the time I could not imagine how to go about that.
Thankfully, I found yoga and every time I practice it invites me to let go: let go of fear, let go of anger, let go of stress, let go of worry over what I cannot control. I set my intentions for my practice, yes. But the practice itself is the point. The devotion is what matters.
At times like these, especially, B. K. S. Iyengar’s words from Light on Yoga help me walk back from the edge of worry to a place of devotion. I remain profoundly grateful to all those who are caring for the sick and working to contain the pandemic that has already claimed so many lives. You embody Karuna, as described in this paragraph of Iyengar’s introduction:
“Karuna is not merely showing pity or compassion and shedding tears of despair…It is compassion coupled with devoted action to relieve the misery of the afflicted. The yogi uses all his resources — physical, economic, mental or moral — to alleviate the pain and suffering of others. He shares his strength with the weak until they become strong. He shares his courage with those that are timid until they become brave by his example. He denies the maxim of the ‘survival of the fittest,’ but makes the weak strong enough to survive. He becomes a shelter to one and all.”
B.K.S. IYENGAR
I take shelter in your courage and I humbly thank you for your service. Namaste