It's That Simple

When I first arrived in India last year, I was taken aback by what I thought was a lot of unnecessary complication. Everything is less automated and takes more time; you can't just use your credit card whenever you feel the urge; you have to fill out this form for that thing and it needs to be in triplicate; this store is open, but not really because the owner is eating lunch. It took some time, but after a while I realized that what I mistook as being inconvenienced by things being too complicated, was actually more of a simplified life - one to which I was no longer accustomed. Things seemed more challenging and difficult, but it was only because, in most situations I had only one, very simple, choice: write things by hand; pay with cash; fill out the form; come back later.

It's a lesson of simplicity that I've drawn out of my life and my practice this week. And it's the joy that I've found in the most simple things and tasks that have helped to make this week fly.

It all started with toast.

Toast, really, is nothing but hot bread, but it was this mundane comfort of home that I really wanted this week. I found myself okay with being caught in torrential rains and wearing slightly musty laundry. Cold showers were easily acceptable, and I could deal with ants, well, everywhere. But I missed toast. My roommate and I had made an attempt to toast bread in a pot, because as I said, toast, in theory, is really nothing more than hot bread, but the effect of the "pot toast" was just not the same. None of that toothsome crunchy exterior with a warm and soft middle. No...honestly, we took some slices of bread and increased their temperature. We gave bread a fever and that's about it.

So I made a decision. A big one.

I bought a toaster.

And let me tell you, all the pieces of bread - wheat, millet, multigrain - that have found their way between those glowing red coils and become warm, slightly crisped, decidedly toasty and ready to accept toppings, have been more appreciated than I can explain. Toast with hummus, toast with peanut butter, toast with butter and honey, toast with cheese. There's been a lot of toasting going on in this household; each satisfying bite reemphasizing that there is so much to be offered by simple pleasures.

In the same way that toast has helped to convince me that all the other things that could be considered inconveniences are just nuisances that can be overlooked, the asana practice helps us to move past the negative influences in our lives. As Sharath said this afternoon, the practice is the tool that helps us to move towards a life that embraces the yamas and niyamas - the ethical concepts we strive to follow in our lives - which include ahimsa (non-harming), santosha (contentment), asteya (non-stealing), and tapas (self discipline), among others. It's that simple. We come to our mat each day, we focus our bodies and our minds through posture and breath and drishti (gaze), and in turn our lives will start to come into focus as well. It may mean sacrifice, and it may take many years of practice, but if we use the tool we've been given the distractions and delusions begin to fall away.

That's the kind of simplicity I want in my life - a focal point to keep me grounded; a strong foundation from which to build. And so I will get up each morning, go to the shala and work as hard as I can. I will do what I came here to do, which is practice and learn. And I will revel in the simple beauty of Ashtanga yoga: the uncomplicated and logical method it follows, the building blocks which stack one on top of the other, supported by a foundation that cannot be rocked. I will breathe and sweat and try to take the lessons I learn on my mat home with me.

Then, I'll eat some toast, maybe with jam, and I'll enjoy every moment of this opportunity that I have been given.