Coming home - again

The last few weeks have been more stressful than usual. A cold-type virus which lasted nearly a fortnight, and a very heavy workload have meant that my regular yoga practice hasn't been at the top of my to-do list. Indeed, I began to think that my yoga practice could easily take a back seat for a while.

I was wrong.

For the first few days, my not practising meant that I could squeeze in a few more emails, or finish off another piece of written work. It also meant that I didn't have to slow down. But I soon began to notice how restless my mind was, and the extent to which my thoughts were occupied with nothing but work. Not good.

I also began to feel guilty about not taking time out for yoga. Why would I let something I love drift away? Where was my commitment, my discipline? What would happen if I didn't start up again?

Then I remembered this article, which reminded me what I was missing, and why it was important to restore the balance.

So today, I unrolled my mat, and came home again.

And as I began to move, and to find the breath in my body, I realised that yoga is always there, waiting for us to come back to it. There is no judgement and no demand for explanation; rather there is a welcome and the reminder that we are mind, body and spirit.

It was good to be home.

The priest and the yoga mat

In my yoga practice today, as I was trying to rest in Corpse pose, I suddenly remembered that today is one of my favourite days of the Christian calendar. For today the Church remembers George Herbert, the 17th-century poet and priest of the parish of Bemerton near Salisbury.

I love Herbert's poetry for its tenderness and beauty, and for its understanding of what it means to seek an encounter with the Divine. Herbert is wonderfully aware of the motives, the hopes and the hesitancy with which human beings approach God, and also of the complete love with which God responds.

My favourite of Herbert's poems is the third poem in a short series called Love. It sums up the feelings of inadequacy humans often carry when coming into the Divine presence, and yet in every line it portrays the overwhelming welcome and acceptance which is offered in return.

And perhaps, after all, there is a connection between yoga and Herbert's poem: both are an invitation into Divine stillness and rest.

Love (III) by George Herbert

 

Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,
        Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
        From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
        If I lacked anything.

"A guest," I answered, "worthy to be here":
        Love said, "You shall be he."
"I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear,
        I cannot look on thee."
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
        "Who made the eyes but I?"

"Truth, Lord; but I have marred them; let my shame
        Go where it doth deserve."
"And know you not," says Love, "who bore the blame?"
        "My dear, then I will serve."
"You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat."
        So I did sit and eat.

A few answers

The answers to my questions about my Christian faith and yoga have come slowly (and there are still some I haven't found). Mostly, it has been a case of living with the questions, continuing to practice and to pray and talking to some wise friends.

For example, after I'd been doing yoga for about six months I went to visit a friend of mine who is also a priest and also practices yoga. I wanted to see what she had to say about this 'dual approach'.

I told her that I was concerned that practising yoga would cause me to lose my Christian faith, and that I would be letting God down by exploring yoga. Her response came in the form of a question that has stuck with me ever since. She said: Do you really think that Jesus would let you go just because you practice yoga?

After a few moments' thought I replied that, no, I didn't think he would ever do that. I felt that the Jesus I knew and loved would know that I wasn't trying to replace him - more that I was trying to grow closer to him in a new way.

And I keep coming back that question whenever I begin to doubt my love for Jesus: Do I think that he would abandon me because I follow the way of yoga too? Not in a million years.

But to hold on to that takes courage. Because it means moving away from an old way of believing (i.e. not having the courage to find my own way of following Jesus) and moving towards a new way which comes from the heart. And it means, for me at least, trusting Jesus more than I did before so that I can be the person I am now in his presence.

Not without its problems...

So discovering yoga (or being discovered by it) is the most significant thing that's happened to me in the last two years. But it's not been an easy journey.

I've had a lot of doubts and questions about yoga and about whether or not I should practice - a lot of things to work through.

The main issue for me has been the potential clash between yoga and my Christian faith. And because my faith is so much part of who I am and what I do, that's caused me to ask a lot of deep questions.

For instance:

Is yoga, with its roots in Eastern religious traditions, likely to take me away from my Christian faith?
When I do yoga, am I praying to a deity in whom I do not believe?
Am I serving 'two masters' - yoga and Christ?

And, perhaps most difficult:

When Jesus speaks of 'losing the self' how do I approach yoga's invitation to discover my true self?

But don't worry! There are some answers!