Joseph died 2 years ago. He ran a visa run to Phnom Penh from his home in Mysore, and instead of a new stamp in his passport, Pattabhi Jois’s one-time right-hand man got a visa for the next world. He had a fatal heart attack.

Yesterday, his Facebook page was full of birthday wishes, a memorial site for those of us left. In cyber space, do people really die? With all of the new technology in the past 2 decades, it seems I “talk” to my friends more and more over the computer; cyber relating is more frequent than face to face meeting. So in a way, Joseph is still with us.

It’s another odd twist to reality in the digital age.

Happy Birthday Josephji

Joseph Dunham

Tirumalai Krishnamacharya

Krishnamacharya, the father of modern yoga, was the teacher of, among others, BKS Iyengar, Desikachar and our beloved Pattabhi Jois. His wise counsel has inspired several generations of yoga practitioners.

With yoga’s quickly rising popularity, however, many times the practices of yoga are taught in group settings, without sensitivity to the particular needs of the student. Some students need more vigorous practice, some need more meditation. An injured or ill individual may need special attention to address certain health issues. A practice that was appropriate at one phase of life may no longer serve the same function at a later stage.

While yoga can bestow health and inspire well-being, it can also injure if not taught in the appropriate context. Teachers today should be especially careful to listen–to their own intuition and to the needs of their students. There is no “right” practice. Each student must eventually learn to become their own teacher. Here is a guide to help with that process.

A gift for you:

Krishnamacharya’s Yoga Makaranda

sarva mangalam!

H.H. 17th Karmapa

“Many people have expressed anxiety about disasters that might befall the world in the year 2012. In fact, we never know what any given year might hold. But if we are sincerely committed to following a path of compassion and wisdom, this uncertainty about the future need not cause us any concern. Whatever happens, we simply keep our focus directed steadily at what matters most—cultivating compassion and equanimity, and acting to benefit others. If we harbor this attitude in our hearts, we can make anything that occurs positive for ourselves and for others.

Click here to watch H.H. Karmapa lead prayers on the last day of 2011, in Sarnath, India.

You don’t have to be dramatic about it. Just do it. If you slip on your discipline a week later, just try again, quietly.

2. Eat more raw food.

It’s healthier, better for the planet, gives you incredible energy, and makes you want to dance, and by the way…

3. Play more!

Dance, sing, paint, write stories, make dollhouses out of shoeboxes, create fish-mobiles from paper mache, not to win, or sell, or promote yourself, but just for the hell of it. Turn somersaults in the swimming pool, jump around on the beach, eat (or make) heart shaped raw chocolate truffles. Laugh from your gut.

4. Take up (or re-commit to) yoga and meditation practice.

I know, I’m biased. But yoga and meditation change your perspective. If you want to make a shift in your life, settle down and watch your breath. Just try it. If you already have a practice, look at it again and see if it’s working. If you’re getting nicer, it’s working.

5. Stop gossiping.

Negativity breeds negativity. So guess what? Positivity breeds positivity. You choose.

6. Get some physical exercise every day.

It’s our only body–we only get one this time around. Take good care of it.

7. Smile more.

If necessary, on those days when it is not forthcoming on its own, turn up the corners of your lips and soften your eyes. You will be amazed at how effective this is.

8. Learn the power of silence.

Turn off all (I mean ALL) of your gadgets and notice what is happening around you. And while you are at it…

9. Spend more time in nature.

Mother earth supports us. Appreciate her and she will reward you with gifts: a sunset, a summer rain, a frog chorus, a symphony of rustling leaves. But she won’t come to you; you have to go to her. She’s just that way.

10. Practice generosity.

Donate to charities, give to beggars, support good causes, just because it is the kind thing to do. If you truly (be honest with yourself) don’t have the means to make financial offerings, donate your time or attention.  It helps you to appreciate the fact that you are rich enough to be give. Or, if you prefer, stew in your poverty mentality. But if you choose that, then please…

11. Stop whining.

We know. It’s hard. Practice gratitude instead. You can do it.

12. Find a purpose.

Your intention guides you through life. Are your goals in line with your values? Ask what you truly want out of life, and contemplate whether your current activities support that.

13. Love more.

Appreciate your family, friends, and colleagues even when– especially when– they bug you. Offer praise –tell them what inspires you about them. One authentic compliment can boost a person’s day, but it boosts your own day even more. And don’t forget to LOVE YOURSELF, lavishly–not in the gooey sense, but really, do you have to be so hard on yourself? Give it a break!  365 (or 366 this year) days of this and you’ve got a stellar year ahead of you. So…

14. Relax and Enjoy!

Go ahead, you can.

Wherever our sights are set, the arrow will fly. Our view forms our intention and guides the trajectory of our path. So our view is key. Whether focusing our gaze on the tip of the nose or envisioning a new direction in our life, how we “see” things is a primary indicator of the depth of our yoga practice. Dristi is a tool to settle the mind and refine our view. It helps to keep coming back checking in to see if your vision needs focusing. It’s sort of like an attitude adjustment.

Our dristi can help calm or motivate us. It helps us focus and become aware of What Is Happening on more and more subtle levels of experience. We start with the grossest level, the physical, and gradually, with patience and discipline, we start to tune in—to see– the more subtle aspects of our experience.

Focus

On the simplest level, dristi refers to our gaze. On the mat or cushion, dristi keeps our practice focused and stable. Dristi can compensate for imbalances in the asana practice; different gazing points are often suggested for the same posture, depending on the particular student. In a forward fold, for example, looking toward the big toe can help extend the spine and create a sensation of more openness. For those who are hyper-flexible, however, gazing down toward the nose can help encourage grounding.

If you find yourself falling asleep during meditation, raise the gaze slightly to refresh and uplift the prana. If you feel agitated, lower the gaze to an area just down the line of the nose. Be honest with yourself about what you need in order to maintain even and steady presence.

Steady gaze equals a steady mind. So if we wish to effectuate certain changes in the subtle body, then directing the gaze can help a yoga posture sing. Dristi creates the mood of a posture. It’s like the icing on the cake; you may think it’s just extra fluff on top, but actually it’s what makes it delicious, and, some say, the whole point of cake.

Refining the View

Off of the mat or cushion, dristi translates into our view. If we pay too much attention to the nitty gritty details of daily life, we can get bogged down with heaviness. But impermanence is reliable, and if we can lift the metaphorical gaze, allowing a larger view, then things often look more cheerful and bright. When I get too scattered, it is often from having an exaggerated vantage point, looking too far into the future, obsessing on plans, hopes, and dreams. When that happens, its good to pull the reins in a bit, lower the gaze to bring the awareness back to the present. So the dristi can help us work with states of mind.

If the goal of yoga is to settle into a state of deep meditation, then in order to prepare the ground for that to happen, we need to look at all aspects of our lives. Yoga provides us with a handy tool bag, but we have to know how to choose the correct tool. In that tool bag, we find antidotes to the habitual reactions that flame up in the midst of daily life. Ultimately it is our view that determines how we respond to life situations. So if we see clearly, we know which antidote to apply. Yoga Sutra 1:33 offers a helpful guideline.

By cultivating an attitude of friendship toward those who are happy, compassion toward those in distress, joy toward those who are virtuous, and equanimity toward those who are non-virtuous, lucidity arises in the mind.

The brahma-viharas, or as they are called in the Buddhist world, the 4 immeasurables, provide a guideline for navigating the path in daily life. Maitri, loving kindness, toward those who are happy, dispels jealousy. Karuna, compassion, toward those who are suffering dispels hatred or desire to inflict harm. Mudita, joy, toward those who are virtuous spreads virtue. Upeksa, equanimity, toward those who are not virtuous removes intolerance.

By responding to life situations with this guideline, we reduce our habitual reactions to situations that may throw us out of harmony—situations that push our buttons. When we reduce anger, pride, jealousy, ignorance, and craving, we are essentially reducing the tamasic and rajasic energies in the body, which allows the sattvic energy to blossom. When this happens, the body becomes a ready container and meditation arises effortlessly.

Essentially the path of yoga is about stilling the mind by working with the tools of yoga– including asana, pranayama, bandha and dristi–in order to set the stage for meditation to dawn.  If practice is the map, we have to know where we are on the map, and we do this by looking around at our surroundings. Do our acts, speech and thinking support or hinder our progress in yoga? Unless we know where we are going, we risk floating along just hoping that these practices will influence other aspects of our life.  It’s not very realistic.

If we are serious practitioners then we need to look at the 22 hours we spend off the mat or cushion each day and observe how our view may sabotage the peacefulness we spend so much time cultivating during formal practice. So dristi could be considered in the larger context as this: to become aware of what is manifesting around us, so that we can respond appropriately, rather than getting sucked in to the heat of the moment. Once the mind is stilled, we are ripe for insights about the nature of the universe.

The Look of Love

Eyes are the windows of the soul; they betray our true feelings. So when we practice directing, softening and steadying the gaze, we are directly working with our internal environment.  We say breath and the mind are flip sides of the same coin; perhaps dristi is the opposite side of the emotional coin.

Consider the vast difference in meaning when someone asks, “what are you doing?” with kind soft eyes full of compassion versus that same question delivered by someone with a hard cold glare. The words (breath) are the same, but the meaning is completely different. Perhaps the practice is to simply gaze on the world with kindness and love.

But the question remains….then what?

Fleeing the palace, or in my case, loosening my ties with the Ashtanga yoga community, is not really something that can be decided. It’s like suddenly, one day, you wake up and realize you need to leave the nest, go out exploring, looking for birth, old age, sickness and death. Or rather, you realize that they are already looking for you. In other words, this life passes fast, and when you realize that, the search for truth gets a bit more urgent.

From a practical perspective, I was forced to shift my view due to a severe hip injury from an overzealous hike to Guru Rinpoche’s cave at Taktsang in Bhutan. It simply was not an option for me to continue the intensive asana practice that has guided me through the past 20 years. But I was ready for a shift. The same daily routine was only showing me my weaknesses; it wasn’t giving me any insights into how to work with them.

Isn’t it interesting that the injury happened on my journey to this sacred Buddhist site. I’ve practiced Buddhist meditation for 20 years, and I’ve always considered this to be my primary practice. The many months of sitting practice I’ve done in intensive retreat over the years have shifted my perspective profoundly, and isn’t the full flowering of meditation is the culmination of the Ashta-anga path?

Ironically, this made me even more dedicated to Ashtanga practice, in that I am wholly committed to practicing each of the eight limbs, and moving mindfully and with awareness through the vinyasa of each moment.

Any system has it’s limitations, but that doesn’t mean all are bad.  It also doesn’t mean you have to stick with one system for the rest of your life. Ashtanga Vinyasa as a system is brilliant. And in my twenties, I’ll go so far to say that it was life-saving. But I find that, these days, a simple practice that includes asana, pranayama, bandha and dristi provides the ground to look deeply with awareness, and settle into incredibly peaceful states of meditation.

And I certainly don’t need a certificate to prove that.

1. The incredible good fortune of a precious human body with which to enjoy this life

2. The love of friends and family who guide me along the way

3. The practices of yoga and meditation, and the joy of sharing them with others

4. My teachers, who shared and continue to share these wisdom practices with me

5. Music!

6. Dark chocolate to feed to above referenced precious human body

7. Art!

8. Writing.

10. Long desolate stretches of pristine beach…

Mai Khao Beach