Spiritual Impulse

Rereading Donna Farhi's book "Bringing Yoga to Life" where she writes, "Whether we are hooked on food, alcohol, drugs, sex, money, work, or fame, the impulse to lose ourselves in these things can be seen as a spiritual impulse...We only have to read the works of people recovering from additions to see that behind the trappings of disease lies a mystical yearning that is as authentic and urgent as that of any pilgrim. Somewhere underneath bingeing, starving, exercising, drinking, hallucinating, climaxing, and purchasing, we are desperately seeking a way home to our self." Seen in this way, our harmful habits, compulsions, and addictions come from a deep desire to know home, a still sheltered place in the storm, where we experience belonging, loving kindness, unwavering acceptance and attention. These things we long for do not exist in the material world but because we live in a culture that tells us otherwise, we can get laywaid on our journey home by the siren's call to purchase love and affection in a bottle, through an exercise program, a promotion at work, or the internet. But like the siren's call, our attempts to fill our spiritual urgings through these materials means can only lead to dissatisfaction and depletion because spiritual hunger is fed through an inward journey. For at its most profound and basic, the spiritual impulse is to experience the most intimate of relationships possible in this life which is with the inner self. As my yoga practice invites me to draw inward (pratyahara), what I find is not always easy to bear. Being truly (satya) intimate with myself, I am learning, does not come if I only practice this intimacy when I am feeling my most composed. On the contrary, deep self-intimacy comes when I can bring compassion, kindness, and openness to the very feelings I feel most disdain and shame for. Then the experience of my inner self become rich and full. When I can bear what feels "groundless" in Pema Chodron's words, when I can enter that place of not knowing, confusion, despair, or pain with gentleness (also what Peman Chodron asks us to practice) then I find a quality of self-presence that is welcoming, still in the storm, loving, attentive, and accepting. I find my way home.