Sources of inspiration ~ igniting our inner fire

This month at The Samarya Center we are talking about sources of inspiration ~ who inspires us, what our connection is to the people that inspire us, how we cultivate those connections, and how we relate to our sources of inspiration; are they demi-Gods that we can only hope to aspire to? Are they real people that we believe we can emulate? Do we idolize or pedestalize them, and ignore their faults? Or perhaps worse, when we find out they have faults do we dismiss them and deny their contributions to changing the world?

As we think about our own desire for peace and equality, and especially our desire to be catalysts and contributors to greater social justice, even fulfilling our mission "to foster individual transformation as a means to radical social change," we must also carefully consider what prevents us from fulfilling this desire, or truly benefiting from the fruits of our practice. If you are a student at The Samarya Center, you know that we have an altar that includes a "wall of peace and justice" featuring several important contributors to movements of anti-oppression, equality and service. But who are those people, and why did we choose them? Our list is included below, with basic links to each, and over the course of the month, we expect to have suggestions from our community for other people we think should also have a place on our altar. More importantly however, the introduction to the people on our wall will serve as a springboard for honest and open exploration of our own ideas and ideals, and for cultivating a deeper desire and call to action ~ a true stoking and igniting of our own inner fire. We really can be the change we wish to see in the world.

So far this month I have had the opportunity to talk about three of our sources of inspiration, or at least three of the people who are on the wall. Each of these people, for me, has invited a different exploration to our relationship with ourselves, with others in our community, and with the greater sense of "world famous" change makers. First I chose Bob Marley. Who doesn't know Bob Marley? I have to say that in my vast travels, I have never been anywhere, where I have not been sitting in some tiny shack of a bar, drinking a coldish local lager where I have not heard Bob Marley piped over whatever speakers might be cobbled together to create atmosphere. But why did Bob Marley end up on our wall? Even if you are somewhat familiar with his music, you might not be aware of his contributions through music to anti-oppression and social justice movements, or his world famous invitation of two opposing political party leaders, each heads of very heated, tumultuous warring factions that were creating lots of violence and gang warfare, and bringing them on stage together and getting them to join hands in a gesture of unity.

If you know anything else about Bob Marley, you are probably aware of his excessive marijuana use, if not his dedication to the Rastafari movement, which in and of itself is anti-white and oppressive in its backlash against the "establishment," and his philandering, having had at least 11 children with a variety of women. So, we must ask the question, does this take away from what he accomplished in his short life? In fact, we are all only human, and we all have both great strengths as well as serious limitations or challenges. Yoga is about wholeness and multi-dimensionality, and through our practice, we might look at our own tendencies to judge ourselves and others, to cut each other down, to pedestalize our heroes. Thinking of this, we might even explore our collective love of gossip, and how this is just another way that we take away from one another, or deny a person's wholeness. We might choose a practice of, when hearing gossip simply saying, "so?" and redirecting our thoughts and energies into what is good and right about a person and be less concerned with his or her faults. In so doing, we might also begin to accept our own wholeness, which in turn may allow us to focus and celebrate and truly use all of our gifts and talents to contribute to social change, without fear of being criticized or feeling at odds with ourselves. We can bring light, even with our shadows.

Next I chose possibly the least known person on our altar, William P. Ford. Mr. Ford was a very close family friend, really one of my dad's two best friends.

"William P. Ford, a trial lawyer, is the brother of Ita Ford, one of four American churchwomen murdered by security forces in El Salvador in 1980. Just days after the murders, the churchwomen's families asked Human Rights First to represent them in their quest for justice. Mr. Ford was a hands-on, active client, accompanying Human Rights First on numerous fact-finding missions and meetings with U.S. and Salvadoran officials. Mr. Ford has been a dedicated advocate - not only for his sister and the other murdered churchwomen, but for all the oppressed people of El Salvador. As part of a campaign for justice for his sister, he obtained a 54.6 million dollar liability ruling against Jose Guillermo Garcia and Carlos Eugenio Vides Casanova, who were retired El Salvadorean generals living in the United States. "

This was a huge deal in the media when it happened, and especially so in my family, as the murder of Mr. Ford's sister hit so close to home. My dad and Mr. Ford and their other best friend, were three very high powered litigators, and devout Catholics. I remember well the igniting in Mr. Ford, and in my dad and Mr. Heyman, when such a horrific thing happened to someone in their own family. Mr. Ford essentially gave up the bulk of his high powered practice in NYC and focused like a pit bull on Human Rights and especially US policy in El Salvador.
In thinking about Mr. Ford, I can't help but thinking about how each one of us, by being yogis, by being members of The Samarya Center, (or in Mr. Ford's case, by being a practicing Catholic) have this same sense of desire for justice and human rights, and we are like simmering coals ready to be sparked into action. Sometimes we may feel like we are not doing enough, but we don't know what life has in store for us, and what will be the very thing that charges and changes us forever. In our yoga practice, if it is truly to effect "radical social transformation," we must focus on our own sense of inner fire, on trusting in our own unfolding, but also on our responsibility to keep those embers alive, so we are awake and ready when the call to action comes.

Finally, I had the opportunity to introduce Mother Teresa. It turns out that for many people, although she is sort of an icon or archetype of a "do-gooder," what exactly she did is a mystery. In fact, Mother Teresa was a "do-gooder," internationally famed as a humanitarian and advocate for the poor and helpless, and the recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize in 1979 for her tireless humanitarian efforts in India and beyond. At the time of her death, her organization was operating 610 missions in 123 countries. And, much like many others who have lived their lives in the public eye, recognized for their charitable work, Mother Teresa had her fair share of detractors and criticism. This brings up many of the same issues raised in the discussion of Bob Marley. However, another issue regarding Mother Teresa is to me, infinitely more interesting and poignant.

Mother Teresa, in letters to spiritual confidantes, made public after her death, expressed an on-going crisis of faith, that lasted nearly fifty years. She lamented an absence of connection to God, and expressed feeling bereft of the comfort of Jesus' presence in her life. Of course this acknowledgment opens the door for a flood of speculation regarding the nature of faith. As a yogi and a yoga teacher, the question of faith has always been an important one. These crises of faith, or "Dark night of the soul," a term coined by the 16th century Christian mystic and poet, St. John of the Cross, seem to be a natural part of a seeker's spiritual development as they endeavor to grow in spiritual maturity and union with God. As dedicated students of the spiritual discipline of Yoga, it is quite possible that many of us have experienced this same sense of confusion, disconnection, and disillusionment, especially as we seek to reconcile the faiths we grew up with and our new and emerging sense of a different, or even complementary faith.

Even as Mother Teresa struggled in her isolation and confusion, she continued to do the work of serving humanity, of advocating for the poorest of the poor and the sickest of the sick. Her dark night of the soul did not keep her from reaching out to those whom she felt compelled to offer whatever comfort she could. We too can continue our work, of offering service, of becoming better people, of dedicating our hearts and minds to doing what we can to alleviate the suffering that is all around us, even when we are in doubt. Our doubt is a necessary part of our faith. And we don't need our faith to offer a hand of kindness or a loving smile. We can remember that when we do have these crises of faith, we can reach out to the community around us to lift us up and spur us on.

This month at The Samarya Center is about inspiration. We are a community that together and as individuals can do great things. We all have these gifts, we all have this potential, and no matter what else and who else you are, and no matter what your relationship in the moment is to God, source, the "something greater than you," you, we, can all continue to be inspired to do whatever we can. As Thich Nhat Hanh says, "peace is every step."

Thank you for being a part of our community, thank you for being who you are, all of you who you are. We are all in this together.

To learn a tiny bit more about the other people on our altar, check the list below.

Gandhi
Krishnamacharya
Jimmy Carter
Rosa Parks
Aung San Suu Kyi
John Lennon
Nelson Mandela
HH The Dalai Lama
Jesus
Martin Luther King Jr.
Thich Nhat Hanh
Amma

~ with much love and light ~ molly

"When I dare to be powerful- to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid." ~Audre Lorde

Shaucha

This month's topic of shaucha is one that seems pretty easy. Shaucha, the first of the niyamas, or second limb of Yoga, refers to the concept of cleanliness, purity and orderliness. We can think of it as how we keep our homes, how we take care of our bodies and how we take care of our relationships. But shaucha also refers to how we direct our energies, and how we create both structure and freedom by creating a sense of order around us and within us. The trick, to me, with shaucha, is how to create order that feeds and nourishes my whole being, and not to use a false sense of order, or the "way things should be," to limit my own growth and opportunity. Sometimes, to find this sense of order, we actually have to be willing to rock the boat a bit, which may seem at first that we are creating more chaos than order.

Last Sunday I got to experience Loga, a brand of Laughter Yoga, developed by local Seattlite Andrew Whitiver, who will be opening our Sal-u-thon. Andrew offers Loga for free every Sunday at 11 am in Cal Anderson Park. I was given his name by a mutual contact, and as soon as we spoke on the phone I knew this would be an important relationship, and I was eager to meet Andrew in person. I was especially excited that he was immediately willing to help with the Sal-u-thon, our primary fundraising event of the summer, just by hearing about all the amazing things we do at The Samarya Center. He asked that I come to Loga in the park before committing him to our event, to make sure I knew what I was getting into. I had heard of
Laughter Yoga, and I really liked Andrew, but I wasn't sure I actually wanted to try Loga. It's not really "me." I don't just go out to the park, meet up with a bunch of strangers, open myself up to them, follow the exercises (laughing chorus anyone? perhaps a laughing shower?), and lovingly connect through a kind of odd process on a normal Sunday morning. I just don't "do" that sort of thing. I may seem to many of you like a person who is up for anything, happy to be goofy, and loves to laugh, and I am that, but I am also a person who likes to be and stay in control. So when I'm asked to do something that invites me to give up that control, that sense of order, I bristle, get all awkward and stand-offish, and generally keep myself on the periphery.

Last Sunday in the park was no different. As I walked up to the group of normally dressed, normal looking, laughing people, one, who turned out to be Andrew, said, "You must be Molly." There was a moment right there and then when I thought, I could just smile, say no and keep walking, and then the very next thought, "I have to stay, and I have to make a conscious decision right now to let down my guard, be totally present and non-judgmental, be open to the experience, and then decide if I liked it or not." I stayed, I smiled, I laughed, I was moved. So much so, in fact, that I ended up offering an experience of two minutes of non-stop pretend-turning to real laughter for a group of folks at The Bailey Boushay House. When we were done, they expressed the same thing ~ that they felt lighter, more connected and more at ease. I never would have known this experience if I had insisted on my own self-prescribed sense of order in my own identity. When I opened myself up to the possibility that this was a self-imposed limitation, when I "rocked my own boat" a little, I got to have an incredibly connecting experience. I created a new (inner) world order.

Over the past month, I have been thinking about this idea a lot, especially in regard to communication, and how much we muddy the waters of relationship and expression by holding too tightly onto our ideas of how we communicate, even how we are. Again, in an effort to maintain order, either by being too forceful in our communications, or being less than honest because we don't want to hurt someone's feelings or make waves, or being reactive because we don't have the whole truth because that might require us stepping outside of our comfort zone, we end up creating more disconnection, confusion and chaos.

So here again is an example of a self-imposed, identity based idea of order, that in fact brings us less structure, less reliability, less freedom. We consider ourselves to be clear communicators because we "tell it like it is," only to find out that the people who agreed with us out of fear, in fact are harboring resentments and misgivings. We consider ourselves to be the type that "doesn't create problems, goes with the flow," only to discover that we have put ourselves and others in awkward positions, because no one actually knows what is going on, and people are working on false assumptions of what is. We react to a communication to us without looking deeper into it, because we consider ourselves to be "trusting and forthright," only to find out that the person communicating to us is just as unclear as we are sometimes, and in fact, if we took the time to check back, patiently and without judgement, we might find out that we are actually on the same page.

So Shaucha, which at first seems so easy, might actually be a little deeper and trickier than we might think. Oh, Yoga. Isn't that how it always is? But yes, Yoga is a practice of awareness, of self-reflection, of "undoing" our most ingrained senses of ourselves so that we might open up to something even more beautiful, more intricate than anything we ever imagined ourselves to be. Yoga is the gift of discovery of oneself as something divine, perfect, complex and finally, free.

So Shaucha is an attending to a sense of order and purity, finding structure that helps us to live in a place of greater tranquility and freedom. But we might use our more subtle awareness to check in, to make sure that what we see as order, the way things MUST be, is actually serving, and not limiting, us. That our sense of structure and order is not simply something that we have decided is so, whether in our homes, our schedules, our identities, or our communications, that this so called "structure" is not actually limiting our deeper experience.

Finally, I must confess that in my own effort to be eternally optimistic and never let anyone know that I have anxiety about my future and the future of the Center, I often understate our need for help. Here is my clear communication: We really need your help now. Please reflect on what The Samarya Center means to you, and what it is worth in your mind, heart and yes, pocketbook, to keep it going. I know the Sun Sal-u-thon will be a huge success. Please be a part of that. We are all in this together.

~ with much love and light ~ molly

"When I dare to be powerful- to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid." ~Audre Lorde

The Samarya Center ~ Keepin' the passion in compassion

It's been over ten years since I first had the idea to open a yoga studio with a focus on healing and wellness. I had no idea what the end result would look like, I just knew that as a clinician, I was getting burnt out on looking at people like there was something wrong with them. I found myself often at odds with my supervisors and colleagues and had very different ideas about people, their abilities and potentials to heal, and my role in that process. What I was finding from my own yoga classes was that there was another way to live, to look, and to be engaged in the world - a perspective that was built on wholeness and inclusivity, and people's own innate ability to heal themselves, their communities and the world. That's really the way I was brought up - that you stick up for the underdog, that you use whatever you have to influence the world in a positive way. So at first, when I became a speech language pathologist, I thought I was doing just that. I had the idea that if I could help people to communicate more effectively, I could help them to find greater happiness and peace in their world. The idea was good, but it soon became clear to me that this was not the greatest impact I could have. What I became passionate about was influencing the people who had influence over others. So the direct service in many ways became simply a means for me to find people who needed help, then find the people interested (and sometimes even not interested) in helping them, and providing my strength, my ideas, my experience and knowledge to help those people change their outlook and interventions.

It has been a challenging spiritual pursuit. See, all my life I have been given the message, overtly or by suggestion, that I am "too much." That I should "tone it down." That no one likes a show off. As a spiritual seeker, I know that I have to consider that feedback, and figure out how to be me without stealing the spotlight from anyone else. I have tried to make myself small, and I have also loudly claimed the identity of being a "big personality." And yet, in both incarnations, I felt disingenuous or unhappy. How could I use my fire, my strength, to make positive change in this world that seems so filled with suffering? I can't do it by being small, and I can't do it by alienating others, so what do I do? I have felt paralyzed, angry and isolated in my search for truth and meaning, and have many times questioned my spiritual path, or even the desire to follow one. Who am I to tell or show anyone how they should act, how they are causing or furthering suffering, why they are suffering themselves in the shadow of their own identity? Why shouldn't I just stay in my little village in Mexico, swing in my hammock, drink beer and mind my own business? I don't know the answers, I can only tell you that I am searching just like everyone else, and that I have fear and doubt just like everyone else. But that fire keeps coming back to me. If I believe in yoga, and I believe in God, then this gift of fire and strength and advocacy must be something I was given to use in God's service - a gift that I can somehow offer the world.

When I first opened The Samarya Center, I went to a tarot card reader for insight and advice. The one thing she told me that I remember best was this: The Samarya Center will be its own entity. It will grow organically, and your only job is to get out of its way, to steward and guide it, but to let it build and breathe on its own. I have kept that advice close to my heart and all the decisions I have ever made regarding The Samarya Center have been informed by that thought. Like it was a child, I have nurtured and influenced it, but never forced it to be anything it didn't want to be, never pushed my own agenda over its direction. But now, like it was my young adult child, I feel like we have a new relationship - one where I am ready to give my advice, my influence, my guidance, in a way that can be accepted, evaluated and refined. We can now have a conversation together.

The Board of Directors has been working really hard to take The Samarya Center to its next place of growth. In our work, we hired a wonderful, and wonderfully objective, facilitator to help us clear our heads, find our focus, and make smart next steps. In this process, the board and the facilitator invited the title, "Spiritual Director," and asked me to describe what I am about.

What am I about?

I think I know, and then I second guess. I have sat and thought on this question for a long time, talked to my most trusted friends and teachers, and have done many meditations with this as the central question. What would I tell my adult child? How would I influence someone that I loved, trusted and cared for, and more than anything, what would I tell someone about reaching his or her own potential based on my experience and my spiritual beliefs? What can I tell The Samarya Center, and how can I best support those efforts?

I believe that The Samarya Center is special and unique, and I am ready to stand more fully behind what I believe its truest mission to be. Yoga is a great thing, a great practice and a powerful spiritual discipline. I know how many people find their own lives transformed through yoga. I am deeply grateful that there are so many yoga studios around and so many places where people can go to work on themselves, to quiet their minds, to make their bodies more healthy and vibrant. I applaud those efforts without reservation. But The Samarya Center is different. It is about this change in the individual for the express purpose of manifesting that change out into the world and alleviating suffering. It is about advocacy and radical social change. It is about deep commitment to self-inquiry and a fiery heart that is bursting to change the world. This isn't always the "nice" way or the "easy" way, but true change doesn't always come from nice, and easy, and comfort. It comes from dedication, commitment and challenging the status quo, including the status quo of our own hearts and minds.

I think of The Samarya Center in many ways like the Pioneer Square missions, or even the Hare Krishnas: sure, we'll give you a free lunch, or an $8 yoga class, but that is because we want you to listen, to participate, to dedicate yourself to change for the good of the world. Our $8 yoga has a purpose: yes, it's to make yoga accessible to more people, but I want it to be accessible to more people who want to work hard, who have the power to influence their communities, who aren't afraid to stand up for what's right, and who aren't afraid to be called to task for their own self-cherishing, when this ego identification keeps them from being fully themselves.

I am interested in teaching people yoga. Real yoga. Deep yoga. Challenging yoga. If the foundations of yoga ~ connection to others and connection to God ~ were really the very most important part of our practice, then we wouldn't even have to think about "being inclusive," "celebrating diversity," or "promoting equality." If the whole world were on the path of the Boddhisattva, in other words, if we really cared about the happiness of all other beings as much as we cared about our own happiness, there would not be institutionalized racism, global poverty, hate crimes, corrupt governments, increasing violence, gang warfare, drug trafficking, terrorism, or even people making each other feel small, in an epidemic of self-doubt and unworthiness. If we actually believed in and practiced a deep connection to other beings, and a moral imperative to alleviate suffering, we might act very differently in our day to day choices and interactions. It sounds overly simplistic and idealistic, I know. But it is also true. And one way we can start on this path is through the practice of yoga in a community of like minded individuals who believe in change, and who believe that change starts with oneself. And one thing I can do is to cultivate and steward that community through The Samarya Center.

It has been nearly nine years since "September 11." I remember teaching that day, and feeling totally overwhelmed. Was I supposed to say something? Do something? I felt again, paralyzed and isolated. I remember turning to Stephanie and saying, "what do we do?" and her responding, "we just keep doing what we are doing." I was horribly disappointed and extremely angry at that response. In that moment of anguish, it felt so smug, so defeatist, so non-committal, so resigned.

Almost nine years later, and almost ten years after starting The Samarya Center, it has come to be exactly what I believe to be true. We just keep doing what we're doing, but we bring our greatest gifts to bear on our practice. I have the gift of fire, and I have the gift of advocacy. I am still learning how to use them, but I have come to own these gifts, and to dedicate them to changing the world. Am I wrong? I don't know. Am I ready to be The Samarya Center's Spiritual Director? I'm not sure. But I do know that I am ready to shepherd The Samarya Center into maturity. I am ready to lead and cheerlead, and to use my passion t0 ignite our community in its shared enthusiasm for change. We have dreams of opening a center in Portland, followed by more Samarya Centers around the country to bring our message of yoga and healing to more and more communities. We have dreams of expanding our center here in Seattle to accommodate our growth and create the infrastructure to sustain that growth and to maintain the central mission. We are actively looking to create new innovative outreach programs to bring yoga to communities deeply in need of healing. We are growing, we are organizing, we are revolutionizing!

We are a community dedicated to radical social change. You are a part of that too. Please help us to move fearlessly into this bright future. Do you believe in it too? Give generously, there are so many ways to be involved ~ from your pocketbook in our fundraising efforts, with your time in volunteering at the center and at our events, with your heart by bringing this message of compassion and equality out into the world through your work, your community, your own yoga teaching, and even with your dedication and practice, by opening yourself up to continued self-inquiry and a willingness to move beyond your own limited conditioning and ego identification. By really practicing. Yoga.

We are all in this together. Our community can make a change. And we hold you dearly as part of that.

~ with much love and light ~ molly

"When I dare to be powerful- to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid." ~Audre Lorde

Asteya ~ non-stealing, or recognizing the rotten root of desire

Been caught stealing;

once when I was 5...

I enjoy stealing.

It's just as simple as that.

Well, it's just a simple fact.

When I want something,

I don't want to pay for it.

~ Jane’s Addiction

My life is amazing and great. I have so many things, opportunities, friendships, and experiences, I can hardly imagine wanting more.

When I sit in meditation, it’s easy for me to feel the abundance of my life and the endless opening of my heart, and from this, the exquisite overwhelming light of gratitude.

Just the other day in fact, I was sitting on a seat of impressive volcanic rock, facing the ocean, my beautiful husband wading peacefully through the warm waters of the thermal pools behind me, surrounded by the lush green of the palms, and breathing in some of the cleanest air on the planet. I dropped quickly and deeply into that contented state of an easy meditation and was surprised to hear my timer sound off its soft harp sounds, signaling the end of my sit. I opened my eyes slowly, took in a few deep breaths, and got up to find Sasha, eager to share with him the insights that had come to me without even trying. It felt like the best meditation of my life, and I couldn’t wait to include him in my discoveries.

As I walked up off of the rocks and over to the pools, I noticed several people standing watching the ocean with excitement. I assumed they were just reveling in the huge waves and crystal blue color, until Sasha came running up to me, “Did you see those whales?” “What whales?” I responded. Although I had been enjoying my meditation, it didn’t seem possible that I could have zoned right out of prime whale watching. “Are you serious?” Sasha continued, “there was a mother and a calf and they were playing and jumping right there,” pointing to a large rock about ten yards off shore. “Everyone was screaming and taking pictures, I’ve never seen whales so close in my life.” I couldn’t believe that I had actually sat through all the excitement. Suddenly my “great sit” felt like a total waste of time. I didn’t want my “inner peace” and “insight,” anymore, not when it meant missing seeing whales up close and personal. I kept asking Sasha to describe exactly what he saw, as if somehow by hearing it enough, I would experience it too. I walked into the warm pools, listening to everyone sharing their excitement, the water washing over me like the feeling of disappointment and wanting that pervaded my mood.

I had already been thinking about this feeling of wanting. In the week before I left Mexico for Hawaii, I had been asked to translate an important meeting of an afterschool program in my town. A cell phone had been stolen, and there was ample evidence that a young girl who worked at the program had taken it. The American founder of the program wanted to talk to all of the workers together to discuss what to do, and needed my help in being understood. I translated faithfully, then asked the founder if I could add something myself. I turned to the girl, whose family I know well, and told her, “If you took it, just say so. Everyone makes mistakes, everyone wants things they can’t have, and every thirteen year old has made an error in judgment. No one thinks you are a bad person for taking the phone, they just think you made a mistake, and you can remedy it by telling the truth.” My little friend stared at me with a poker face and simply shrugged her shoulders. She was not going to admit her guilt, and there was no way I could make her. When the founder and I spoke after, I told her that I believed the girl had taken the phone, but that we should now just let it go. There was nothing else we could do, and the teen would have to work through her own process of knowing the position she had put her family in, and that the adults around her were willing to listen to her and forgive her, that they understood her longing. I believed that lesson would last. As the founder and I went through our own process of letting go, I put forth a question of complicity. Were we, the relatively rich Americans who live in the town, not also a part of the issue? Could it be possible that seeing us with our cell phones, our trucks, our i-pods, i-phones and laptops, is part of what stirred the sense of longing and temptation in this young girl? She has what we want, a life in Mexico, and we have what she wants, things and money.

I thought of this because I had recently had another powerful experience of wanting it all. A good friend of mine in my town had just told me she was pregnant. In a moment of ungrounded jealousy and longing, I was talking to my sister about my so far unrealized desire to have a child. I found myself telling her, “I just get so mad when I think about my friend, I mean, she doesn’t even have a boyfriend, she has no job and no opportunity, and no network of support.” In other words, she doesn’t have any of the wonderful things that I have, therefore she should not have this gift, whereas I, having everything, should have more.” My sister and I both laughed when we realized my reasoning. This longing seems to cloud any sense of rational thought.

And yet we do want it all. And when this longing becomes too much to hold, we act on it, doing and saying things that we know at some level are, at worst wrong, and at best, ridiculous. When I hear myself or others saying, “I can’t believe that he …..,” I just want to say, “Really? You really can’t believe it?” How could we not believe it?

The truth is, we all share this deep sense of longing. What we have is never enough, and we become consumed with getting more, whether it is a material thing, an opportunity, a relationship, or a state of being. We might, as the people at my hotel in Vallarta do, get up at 6 o‘clock in the morning to save our spot on the beach, even when we know that we are going back to bed and may actually not make it to the beach until noon. At least we got our place. This might seem reasonable if we are the one that has the beach chair and umbrella, but it would seem obnoxious and unfair if we are the one wandering the beach with no place to sit, while looking at all of those empty chairs, “saved” by beach towels and paperback books.

When we think of this month’s topic, Asteya, non-stealing, we might feel relieved that this one is easy. We don’t steal, right? And it makes it easy too, to feel superior to those that do. But if we change our perspective to what we share, that longing, that seemingly insatiable sense of desire, we might realize that we steal in subtle ways more often than we think, and that we are only one life experience away from acting out our longing and taking what we want. And we want it all.

We may think that we practice the ethical precepts of yoga, the yamas and niyamas, to steady and still the waters of our own erratic thought stream. Perhaps it is the other way around. Perhaps we practice asana, pranayama, meditation to calm the turbulence of our mind, to satisfy the disruption of desire through finding contentment, abundance and fullness from an inner source. Maybe when we acknowledge this longing, we can attend to it and not push it away, deny, defend or judge it. And maybe, when we commit to this tenderness toward our own suffering, we open to new possibilities and gifts. Perhaps even the gift of knowing that from that place, that perspective, we already have it all, and that our satisfaction is not dependent on phones, children, whales or anything else. It is as close as our ability to recognize and appreciate it.

About a week after my sit, where I thought that seeing whales was better than the gift of contentment through meditation, I found myself sitting again facing the ocean and listening to the sound of the huge crashing waves, the salty air fresh on my face. The waves were getting louder and louder, and I decided that I should partially open my eyes to make sure the peace of my meditation was not disturbed by being washed away by a rogue wave. I allowed my eyes to open slowly to half mast, “shiva eyes.” Directly in front of me were three huge whales, close enough to swim to, jumping and playing in the surf. I looked around for Sasha, or anyone, to see if this was really real. I didn’t see another soul, so in a moment of wanting to hold on, I took out my camera, and held it up to my face. As soon as the camera was there, I could no longer see the whales with the same clarity and directness. I realized I was trading in the actual experience for the desire to “save” it. I put the camera down and just breathed in gratitude and astonishment. Right then, the biggest whale jumped up out of the water, and as it landed, one of the group let out a huge playful bellow. In that moment, I understood. I really did have it all.