On the Yogic Path to Public Health: Part 1

Yoga in the time of the coronavirus pandemic

Day 21 of quarantine. Every day, more news unrolls, more cases of COVID-19 are discovered, more recommendations are released to help us stay healthy, more restrictions are put in place to help “flatten the curve.” Life continuously shifts and halts in ever more profound ways.

We may be feeling lost, confused, scared of the unknown, frustrated, anxious. We are not alone in these feelings. We are finding our way slowly through the dark. We have entered new and unchartered waters. There are no rules, and so many rules all at once. What now?

 There is no easy answer, no magic pill or magic vaccine. No crystal ball. Only time will reveal any answers, only time will show us what’s to come.

One thing we can turn to for guidance during this time, is the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali. While there are differing opinions on the details, the Yoga Sutras was written at least 1,700 years ago, by one sage Patanjali, or many sages who combined forces. It is a codification of the vast tradition of yoga into one concise text. Consider it a manual that can lead us from the human condition of suffering and uncertainty, to a place of clarity and enlightenment.

 Perhaps one of the most interesting things about the Yoga Sutras is that out of 196 passages, only two of them refer at all to yoga poses. In fact, the path of yoga is much deeper than a physical practice. Asana, or “seat,” or what we might hear called “poses,” are in fact just 1/8 of the entire practice of yoga. As a Western society, it has become the most well known, most widespread, most popular, and most practiced part, but the other seven limbs, or paths, are where the real work lies. They are what guide us on a deeper human level. They are what will truly lead us to enlightenment, or at least towards higher living. I know, wouldn’t it be nice if a perfectly aligned chaturanga was all it took?

 In times of darkness, of unknown, the Sutras can be a light to show us the way.

 The “first” of the eight limbs (although think less of a linear progression, and more of a pie cut into eight slices) is the yamas. There are five yamas. While there is no direct translation from Sanskrit to English, one way to define yama is “restraint, reigning in, control.” Things to keep in check, things to avoid doing.

 For now, let’s look at the first yama: ahmisa. Again loosely translated, “non-harming, non-violence.” Ahimsa is the foundational practice for the path of yoga. Step one. As yogis, our first aim is to avoid hurting others. 

Obviously, non-harming tells us to avoid any sort of outright violence, physical, emotional, or otherwise. But on a deeper level, ahimsa is what guides us to put down our phones will driving; to respond to difficult situations and people with kindness; to move away from negative self-talk; to choose a diet that nourishes us best; to honor and respect what our bodies are telling us; not to kill the spiders (still working on that one over here). The rest of the yogic path follows this simple advice – simple, but not always easy. 

But in the time of COVID-19, ahimsa brings on even more meaning. The stakes are higher, and we are called upon to listen and follow even more deeply. We all play a role in the outcome of this global pandemic. Every choice we make, every single act, every time we decide to stay home instead, is an opportunity to act in the interest of non-harming. And viewed through this lens, some of these “rules” we find ourselves living by, can seem a little less restrictive.

 Washing your hands for 20 seconds: an act of love. Staying home even when you really want to eat out at your favorite restaurant: a choice to support public health. Wearing a face mask to the store; an act of devotion to humanity. Cancelling travel plans, even (or especially) if it is to see a loved one who is not well: true compassion. Avoiding crowds, only shopping when necessary, waiting a few months for that new clothing item at the store, resisting the craving to run out just for ice cream; genuine care for the welfare of others. These feel especially challenging when and if we have a healthy immune system, because the personal threat is low. But that’s an even more powerful opportunity to practice ahimsa, since it’s solely in the interest of others that we make these choices. All these not-so-easy inconveniences are, at their root, a divine act of love.

Turned towards our own selves, ahimsa can also apply to our self-care practice, which is more important than ever these days. It means sleeping when we’re tired, choosing nourishing foods, staying hydrated, moving our bodies as we’re able, staying connected to family and friends in whatever way we can. It means being soft with ourselves if some days we don’t move, or we don’t drink enough water, or we don’t sleep enough; if sometimes, all we can do is get through the day.

And, as promised on the yogic path, practice makes practice. Ahmisa takes work, as does the rest of yoga. Just as we learn to align our bodies safely in our asana practice, we slowly learn to make choices that don’t hurt others or ourselves - over and over and over again. And as we continue to make these loving choices, as we get more comfortable moving through the world in this way, it becomes easier and easier to act from true compassion and from a genuine concern for all - without even having to think about it. We become the global good; the global good becomes us. Compassion becomes second nature. Kindness becomes the default. True divine love becomes possible.

Together, we will move through this darkness, towards the light.