Seeing is Believing by Laura Dillon
For the better part of the past ten years, asanas were the most cherished, and sometimes only part of my practice. Eventually, however, the power of hatha yoga moved me to a deeper and more meaningful practice. As I became more serious and disciplined about pranayama, and particularly, meditation, my yoga went far beyond the mat. It was no longer just about feeling good and calm. It became more serious, more energetic and more inclusive of my entire life.
In yoga, we often begin with the physical body and later move to the energetic part of our being. Yet when my meditation practice first reached an energetic level, I did not always welcome it.
Last year as I sat for my meditation, I encountered an energy that was stronger than I would wish for. The more I tried to control my meditation, the more I felt I was being controlled. There are as many ways to maintain concentration in meditation as there are people. You can focus on a point, gaze at candlelight, chant a mantra, watch the breath. I had developed a method I called "throwing out the garbage." I would envision myself physically throwing the garbage thoughts out of my mind.
It worked, until I started going with them. My body felt as if it was being thrown to and fro each time I threw out the garbage thoughts. A long-time teacher of mine suggested I allow my thoughts to be with me while concentrating on a point of focus, specifically, a shape.
Without choosing a particular shape, a diamond began to appear at my third eye. This new method proved successful as my free flowing or "throwing" thoughts became fewer. As my attempts at one-pointedness in meditation improved, I began to enjoy a movement of the diamond that expanded and narrowed at my third eye. It wasn’t long before the diamond’s movement began to pulsate my body as well. At first I was excited that my yoga was moving to a new level. Soon, however, the prana or lifeforce of the diamond was leaving me tired, nauseated and even a bit afraid. While riding a high from being able to feel something like this at all, I began to wonder why it was happening.
My teacher JJ Gormley suggested I expand the image of the diamond. Her specific suggestion was to make this diamond a part of me–to find a diamond shape on my own body. My meditation practice changed dramatically the next time I sat. The diamond took the shape of my own face almost immediately. Or perhaps vice versa. I became my diamond as the diamond and my body turned inside out and left me at heart’s center. The place I arrived was one of total peace, and at that place I saw a lotus pulsating with energy and light.
Kooky? Yes. Yet I feel I finally understand what the lotus represents to me in yoga. It’s an energy created by the Divine, and is, in fact, the Divine.
I believe this energy inside of me was actually trying to help me see it. I was so close to seeing that energy but was blocked by my own concentration. Once I allowed my meditation to be something greater than my own concentration, I was graced with clarity and the vision of energy. I was no longer an observer. I was a part of that energy while at the same time it was in no way my own. Peace enveloped me, and when it did, I knew instantly that this energy had always existed, would always exist regardless of my body and mind. It was the feeling of Shanti — often defined as "the peace that passeth all understanding."
Studying Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras last year, I became increasingly aware of the true self that lies within us. Yet I continued to struggle with the idea everyone was the same, beyond body and mind. I could not see a split between the mind and this true self. The term "true self" led me to believe I should be searching for my true self, as if it was mine to keep, claim responsibility to, and be proud of. I could not accept that a true self or goodness was independent of our actions.
The energy I saw and felt in my meditation somehow allowed me to see the true self in everyone. This energy was the true self and not my mind. Letting go of the "my" in true self, I gained a better understanding of the non-attachment so often referred to in yoga.
Patanjali wrote much about non-attachment. And the more I read, the more I was unsure I wanted to attain such a goal. I have a family, after all. Why would I want to be non-attached to them? I feared that if I reached some kind of complete inner peace then I would have to leave them behind.
The energy has allowed me to no longer feel like I’m holding back on my yoga practice because I love and want to be with my family. In fact, all the gifts of vision, energy, and sound I continue to receive reinforce my belief that I am not in this alone, and that my husband and daughter are a part of my journey. I now know I don’t have to leave them behind to reach moments of complete non-attachment. Instead, they help me get closer to it.
I long remained skeptical of the true powers of yoga. I was guilty of the "I’ll believe it when I see it" syndrome. The fact is, I didn’t begin to see these true powers until I believed in them and truly broadened my mind.
As I began to examine my own thoughts and actions more deeply and tried to be mindful, I understood what being broadminded was about. It was about believing not only that other people have a right to their beliefs but accepting that those beliefs and many others may in fact be the truth. Broad-mindedness is allowing the mind to widen, deepen and accept God's realm of possibilities.
My connection to God’s energy changes each time I meditate. And while I don't feel attached to the energy, I'm curious to know more. I still wonder if God is trying to get something across to me through all these "messages." In that thought, however, there is a lesson of non-attachment as well. The assumption that these messages are for me rather than accepting fully the messages are the Divine has become part of my work.
In the meantime, I am trying to be as patient as God is with me. As the old saying goes, "When the student is ready, the guru will come." Guru means dispeller of darkness. In the past I looked to my teachers to be my gurus. Now I know my guru or dispeller of darkness to be the Divine.