The Ahimsa Challenge

Years ago on this blog, I wrote about the yamas and niyamas. They are the first and second limbs of yoga, or the complete yoga path. My first post on ahimsa, the yama of nonviolence, focused on how we can be nonviolent with ourselves. The second post on ahimsa focused on the overabundance of violence in our world (and it has only gotten worse in the past two years).  But I find myself coming back to this topic. I find myself struggling with ahimsa on a daily basis, both internally and externally.

Certainly, the legal profession does not put Ahimsa as its pinnacle. Unlike doctors, whose oath states, “do no harm,” lawyers are asked to litigate. Sometimes it feels as though the lawyer’s job is to make the other party look bad. Certainly that is not the actual job, but unfortunately, some lawyers take on their clients and stories so intensely, that this is what ends up happening.

I see the opposite of ahimsa, however, in other places in life as well. There is little that bothers me more than speaking badly about people behind their backs. I am not going to try to say I have never done it. I probably do it on a daily basis. Somehow this has bothered me from long before my yoga practice, but it has been yoga that has taught me why it is so damaging to myself and the universe.

The energy we put into the world is the energy we receive. When we put out negative energy statements about others, we are only harming ourselves. We are harming the people who hear them. It creates a violent atmosphere. The violence is not with guns and rockets, but it is violence nonetheless. I look at so much of the larger violence happening in the world today (Ferguson, Gaza, Iraq), and I try to make sense of it. I try to understand how humans can be so awful to other humans.

And then I realize, war happens when we do not understand one another. I have been incredibly blessed to have traveled in many parts of the world. I have lived in two foreign countries, one of which I did not speak the language fluently (France), and one of which arguably does not speak the same language as me (New Zealand – I still sometimes don’t understand Kiwis). But all my traveling has made me believe one simple truth:

If everyone in the world lived in a country where they do not speak the language natively for six months, war might disappear. There is nothing more humbling than having to trust the people around you with them knowing you are not from there. I have been welcomed into peoples’ homes, provided directions, showed amazing places, and treated wonderfully everywhere I have been. And yes, I was an American living in France when the United States went to war against Irag in 2002.

There are other ways to reach this without actually living in a foreign country (though I highly recommend it). I think the first way is to do our best not to belittle others. It sounds cliché, but clichés exist for a reason – they are often correct. I will not say it is easy, but I do know it is possible. I work in a field where it is easy to be judgmental. Children’s lives are at stake every single day. People make decisions with which I do not agree every single day. I make decisions with which other people do not agree every single day.

None of that means, however, that we have to be cruel to one another. The idea that sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me is not actually accurate. Not only can words harm, they bring a lack of understanding for others, which can lead to physical violence in the future. In the world of domestic violence, we do not differentiate between emotional and physical abuse. I have actually heard victims say the emotional abuse was worse than the physical abuse. This is not something I understand personally, but the sentiment is not lost on me. Thus, our words are just as violent as our weapons even if they result in fewer immediate deaths. Words also have the power to bring positive change. What if instead of belittling others we attempted to understand them? What if we took the time to stop and think about the words we speak?

To be clear, venting is different than what I am talking about. We can vent and be frustrated, even angry, about situations and what happened, but we do not need to belittle people in the process. We do not need to, for lack of a more mature way of saying it, call people names. When I was a camp counselor, we were adamant that the children in our care were not bad even if at times their actions were bad. When we disciplined, we were sure to make that distinction. That distinction matters. It matters to the person making the distinction, the person about whom the distinction is made, and to the energy of the universe.

I have come to realize there is little I can do in my current circumstances to stop the Israeli-Hamas war or to stop the riots in Ferguson short of offering prayer/light/healing/etc. But there is a lot I can do to change my own way of bringing violence into the world in the form of words. This takes a lot of strength, and sometimes, frankly, it is strength I do not think I have. It is easier to follow the crowd and poke fun at the target who is not there. But I started practicing yoga to find a new way of living, and this is a very important step. It is taught that ahimsa is the very first step on the 8-limbed yoga path because it is the foundation. How can we proceed along a path when we constantly bring negative energy into our lives and the world?

As a positive affirmation, nonviolence means compassion. It means understanding, or at least attempting to understand. That means stopping and thinking – an act that is often lost on us in the digital age. But I am challenging myself, and those who wish to join me, to go one day without speaking unkindly about someone. Our words matter.  How can we use them to be compassionate instead of violent? And after that one day, try one day more. Start small and see how the changes affect you. 

There are so many ways to bring ahimsa into our lives, but this is one small step that can make a huge difference.

Are you willing to take this ahimsa challenge?

Namaste!

© Rebecca Stahl 2014, all rights reserved.

The post, The Ahimsa Challenge, first appeared on Is Yoga Legal.

Living Ahimsa, or Nonviolence in Everyday Life

Non-violence is not a garment to be put on and off at will. Its seat is in the heart, and it must be an inseparable part of our being.

~ Mahatma Gandhi

I just found out today is International Day of Non-Violence. I tend to ignore International days of _______________. But usually the ones people share on facebook are the International Day of Cupcakes, so taking time to recognize a day loses some meaning after awhile. But I can get excited about a day of nonviolence. After all, it is the first of the yamas, and a discussion of ahimsa was a post back in the first year of this blog (actually on Christmas).

So why is today the International Day of Nonviolence? It is Gandhi’s birthday. Gandhi exemplifies nonviolence in a way perhaps no one else can. Without lifting a sword, Gandhi helped India achieve independence from the largest empire in the world at the time. His nonviolent revolution led to freedom movements across the world, including the civil rights movement in the United States.

That is amazing and wonderful, but while it is inspiring on one level, it is also a bit intimidating. It can be difficult to look at someone like Gandhi and not think, “I’m never going to nonviolently lead a country to independence, so how does nonviolence fit into my life?" And a day devoted to this question, if only once per year, is a great opportunity to determine this for ourselves.

It seems a bit strange that the international day of nonviolence is happening in the midst of a US presidential election, especially one filled with more vitriol than I have ever seen before. Whatever your political beliefs, or non-beliefs, it is difficult not to see and feel the violence being espoused by everyone involved. It literally pains me to witness this. But it is such a small piece of the violence consuming us these days. The news is filled with the civil war in Syria, the war in Afghanistan, and in the last two weeks, there have been two shootings in Tucson that I have heard about. And PBS is showing a film on the book, Half the Sky, which I just read, a kind of "hidden" violence happening to women and girls all over the world.

It sort of goes without saying, the world is full of violence. But if Gandhi can teach us anything, it is that we can take on seemingly insurmountable tasks with a steady focus on being nonviolent. We can bring nonviolence into our daily lives, and if more and more of us choose that path, it can be the light that ultimately penetrates the darkness.

And it need not be nonviolence in a physical, killing sense. The violence in Syria is easy to spot. We can watch the news, see people killing one another, and know that it is violence. The violence within ourselves and our daily interactions is more difficult. It is not what we traditionally consider violence. We are told that violent videogames are ones in which there are guns and blood and street fighting. But violence is also a negative word we say to someone else. It is looking at someone with contempt rather than compassion. It is treating our bodies terribly just to hide the pain.

In short, nonviolence is not a negative. It is a positive experience of working towards greater compassion, for ourselves and others. It is looking at that person with whom you are frustrated beyond belief and finding it in your heart to offer them some metta, or lovingkindness, a few words of peace. We can ensure that we stop in our moments of frustration and look to find compassion for the other person.

Nonviolence does not mean never feeling angry, upset, or frustrated. It is a commitment to recognizing those are valid emotions but we need not use them against other people or ourselves. Anger is anger. It is not a rationale for hate. Frustration is frustration. It is not a rationale for unkind words. Nonviolence is, therefore, recognizing the difference between an emotion and our response / reaction to it. Over time, if we practice conscious nonviolence, we can learn to respond with less of it and instead respond with more compassion.

And most importantly, nonviolence must start with ourselves. We are so often our own worst critic.  Our self talk, and even the ways we choose to eat and sleep and nourish ourselves must strive for nonviolence if we are going to be nonviolent with others. In some ways, the British Empire at the beginning of the 20^th century seems like small beans compared to our own internal world. But as Gandhi reminds us we must “be the change [we] wish to see in the world.”

If we want to see a world of nonviolence, we must begin with ourselves. Can you take today as an opportunity to practice nonviolence toward yourself and others?

Namaste!

© Rebecca Stahl 2012, all rights reserved. 

Starting Fresh for Forgiveness

When I was a child, I was forced to miss school twice a year when my non-Jewish friends went to school (unless, of course, the holidays fell on weekends). And yes, even in elementary school, I hated missing school. Think what you want about me, I can take it. Those two days were Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Rosh Hashanah literally means the head of the year. It’s the new year for Jews. Yom Kippur is the day of atonement, the day we ask for forgiveness for all we have done "wrong" during the year.

As a child, I dutifully went to synagogue every year. Ok, usually I was dragged by my parents, but still, I went. I cared almost nothing about the holidays. Ironically, over the years I have stopped taking these days off from work, but they have begun to mean a lot more to me. I will be working all day today, and I will not be going to services, but the new year has me thinking, especially as it is tied to the day of atonement.

On December 31, everyone talks about resolutions. These are thoughts and ideas about how we are going to better ourselves going forward. It is a very personal endeavor, rarely focused on our place in the world. But the Jewish holidays being together like this are really something different. And it is my yoga practice that has connected me to this difference. The act of asking forgiveness is difficult. Instead of asking us to take a look at what we may like to change about ourselves and then heading out to a party, asking forgiveness requires us to take a look at how our being affects others around us. Some years this is easier than others.

Yoga, similarly, asks us to look at how our actions affect others. The Yamas and Niyamas, the first two limbs of the 8-limb yoga path, are rules for living. The yamas, specifically, address our interactions with others. They are: ahimsa (non-violence), Satya (truthfulness), Asteya (non-stealing), Brachmacharya (just read the link – no succinct explanation), and Aparigraha (non-grasping). As a kid, all I heard was the need to ask for forgiveness for anything I had done to hurt another. A noble endeavor, for sure, but a little tough to grasp at times. Yoga has given me the tools to self reflect enough to examine what that truly means and to reach out with specificity to those I have hurt.

The days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are, in some ways, somber. They are days of reflection, days of meditation, days to think long and hard about how our past year has gone. But first, we recognize the new year! There is something beautiful in the order. Before stepping into that somber world, we remember that no matter what we have done in the past, we can start fresh and renew. This is a new year, and the period of reflection is truly a chance to determine where we need to ask for forgiveness and a chance to move forward from that. 

It is also a chance to forgive others. The new year is a reminder that whatever they may have done to us in the past can be changed going forward. That is a refreshing thought. We need not hold on, another yoga lesson that is sometimes easier said than done. The time on the mat is a chance to reflect. It is a chance to turn inward and notice all the subtle ways we have missed the mark on where we wanted to be. 

But it is also the opportunity to let go, to see all that is new in the world. It is a chance to open our hearts to the possibilities of the year ahead remembering that we may make mistakes along the way, but also remembering that we can both forgive and ask forgiveness. We can also learn to preempt the need. We can set an intention to refrain from sending the nasty email (asking for a tone check from a friend helps). We can refrain from making disingenuous remarks about others. We can refrain from reacting through anger rather than thoughtful reflection.

What I have come to love about the Jewish New Year is that, like a yoga practice, it is both deeply personal and community oriented. The reflection is deep, but the need to engage others through forgiveness brings us together. It is somber reflection but also a chance to come together and celebrate the newness, not only of the new year, but also of the clean slate produced through forgiveness.  

I may be at work today, but these are the lessons my yoga practice has taught me about all those days I had to miss school as a kid!

And don’t forget the apples and honey! May your year be sweet and full of peace, light, and love.

Namaste!

© Rebecca Stahl 2012, all rights reserved. 

Finding Peace

September 21 is global peace day. This year, the organizers’ goal is for this year’s day “to be the largest reduction in global violence in recorded history, both domestically and internationally.” What an incredible vision. How amazing would it be if for one day, violence stopped . . . globally?

Many yoga studios take part in global peace day by getting together for an event called Global Mala. Started by Shiva Rhea, Global Mala events invite people to do 108 Sun Salutations or 108 chants. 108 is a sacred number, but I think there are 108, or more, reasons why that is. I participated in the 108 Sun Salutations in Tucson, Arizona two years ago, and this Saturday (yes, a few days late), I will participate in 108 here in Dunedin, New Zealand. As the world erupts in protests and suicide bombings and bigotry and hate, bringing a community together to celebrate and honor peace gives me hope.

So, September 21 is a wonderful opportunity to think about peace, to think about acting without violence, to think about ahimsa. It is a wonderful opportunity to imagine a peaceful world. It is a wonderful opportunity to imagine a world in which we honor and respect all people for who they are. It is a wonderful opportunity to look externally and imagine living among others peacefully. It is a beautiful vision, eh?

But are you willing to look inside? Are you willing to see peace within yourself? Are you willing to put aside that voice in your head that tells you every time you do something “wrong”?

Because there is absolutely no way to have external peace without internal peace.

For many of us, finding internal peace is much more difficult than imagining a peaceful world. We can look at the other side of the world and say “if only X happened,” the situation would get better. From the outside looking in, everyone seems to have their own answer for how to make the situation better. But when we turn that lens on ourselves, if we turn that lens on ourselves, we create every excuse in the book for how difficult it would be to find peace.

I do not have time. I am too tired. I tried X and it did not work. We believe external sources define our internal peace. I would have peace if I made more money, or if I worked fewer hours, or if my family stopped driving me crazy. Deep down we know these external factors do not define our peace. We know we could make the time if we wanted. So what stops us?

I wish I had an answer to that question. This week I began taking an Introduction to Meditation class. I have been introduced to meditation many, many times over the past ten years. I have tried numerous types and styles along the way. So what drew me to the class? Discipline. I wanted to be accountable to other people. I wanted to know others were there as well. I wanted to know I did not have to make the time and do the hard work on my own. Plus, I really like the teacher, and as someone once said to me, “you can never take too many introduction classes.”

And that is really the answer, isn’t it? We can never introduce ourselves to ourselves too many times. We can never work for internal peace too many different ways. The more we learn to find peace each day, the more we can share it with others. Sure, there will be days when it seems impossible. But those are the days you reach out for the support network, for your community. But over time it gets easier. Over time, you stop making excuses. Over time, if we all make time for our internal peace, our vision for global peace may just come true.

Will you take today to be peaceful to yourself? Can you stop your inner critic for just one day? Can you use today to begin a pattern?

May peace be with you!

Namaste!

© 2011 Rebecca Stahl, all rights reserved

Styles and Practice Areas and Soapboxes!

When I started this blog, I was looking to see if there are ways that yoga and the legal profession overlap. It has, of course, grown into looking at the intersection of yoga and modern life, in all its varieties. One area I have missed, and where yoga and the law can teach us so much, is in our choice of what type we do; there is something for everyone, and we each have our own paths. Yoga has different styles while the legal profession has practice areas, and our choice of these is a great look at our paths in life.

I think the most common question I get asked when I tell people both that I practice and teach yoga is, “do you do that hot yoga, what’s it called?” The answer, my friends, is Bikram (there are other types of hot yoga, but that is usually where the question originates), and no, I do not. The reasons are plentiful, but most of them do not matter to this post (but if we have met in person, and you have asked me this question, you have seen me on my soap box). The easiest, and most PC answer, is that Bikram is not for me. It is simply not my path.

The types of yoga are plentiful, and I could write a book on all of them, as many people already have. Instead, here is a brief overview: Yoga can reference anything from ancient Hindu tradition / religion to modern asana-based mega classes. Asana practices can range from restorative, where you use lots of props, do not get off the floor, and hold poses for 3-5 minutes to Ashtanga, where there are set series, and you work with a teacher and do not move into learning the next posture until you have “mastered” the one you are currently doing. Some styles of yoga are strict about anatomy, e.g., Iyengar and Anusara, and some focus on the internal awareness, e.g., Anusara again. Then, of course, there is the rest of yoga, the yamas, the niyamas, pranayama (breath), and all forms of meditation. See what I mean? Books! And yet, so many people, including those who do yoga, think that yoga is limited to a few different types.

But of course, lawyers are no different. I cannot tell you how many times someone has asked me for help in areas of law with which I have no, and I mean no, experience. Tax law? Torts? New Zealand tenant’s rights? I am dreading the day someone asks me about criminal law, but at least with that, I have friends who work for the Public Defender and the County Attorney. People assume that because I can put esquire after my name, I must know everything there is to know about all law, everywhere. Any doctors have this problem? Accountants? You get the idea; we often think that one word can define someone when in reality that one word opens up a huge can of . . . possibility!

Once clearing up the fact that I do not have the answer to every type of legal question on the planet, I then must answer the dreaded question – well what kind of law do you practice? The answer, my friends, is family law. The other answer is juvenile dependency law, also known as welfare. In other words, I do that “emotional” law.

If I had 5 cents for every time someone reacted to my choice of profession with, “but how do you do that? It must be so difficult,” or “I could never do that kind of law!”, I would be able to pay off my loans. In other words, people assume all sorts of things about me based upon my choice of profession, and then within the profession, based upon my choice of field.

I used to be a percussionist, and I would joke that I could tell you someone’s personality based upon their gender and their instrument. But maybe that is not so crazy; different paths in music exist just like different paths in everything, and certain types work for some and not others. We choose particular paths because they work for us. Thus, my reaction to Bikram is just that, a guttural reaction; it is not a tempered response because it is so against my needs from yoga. But I know people who love it. For me, sometimes I need a restorative class, and sometimes I need a flow class. I happen to love family law and working with children. To others, that work is insane.

Law and yoga, therefore, offer something for everyone. They are great teachers by showing us that we all have our own paths in life, and someone needs to fill all of them. The Dalai Lama is the first person to say that not everyone could, or even should, follow his path. We all must find our own. And if it is not glaringly obvious by now, of course that means external to the law and yoga as well. That is why this blog is about so much more than just yoga and law, but they have informed my life in such wonderful ways, and I think they are great examples of the rest of life.

The law, yoga, and life are not one-size-fits-all. They are huge paths, full of opportunities to be rearranged and created into our own unique circumstances. So, I might think Bikram is crazy, but that’s because it does not work for me. You might think that family law is crazy, but that is because it does not work for you. That is not okay . . . It is wonderful, and it is what makes the world such a wonderful and interesting place.

We can choose to judge others for their choices, or we can be grateful that they are doing the work instead of us, allowing space for us to do our own work. That, my friends, is my new soap box!

And look, I found one in a small town in New Zealand. Who would have thought?

What is your path?

Namaste!

© 2011 Rebecca Stahl, all rights reserved

Aparigraha

Yes, it has been a long time again - life has been getting in the way of my practice, but there is no better yama to discuss this than Aparigraha, which means non-possessiveness or non-grasping. And I have had a lot of ideas on what I want to write for this post, but today the universe intervened again and a new idea was spawned. My dear friend from college, Anna, is a freelance writer and this week published her interview with a Russian poet. The poet was raised a musician but one day stopped writing music and started writing poetry. And I remembered my own story, the one that got me here - full of not grasping. So waiting led me to exactly where I need to be, though definitely not without some painful grasping and breakdowns to get in the way.

When I was young, I wanted to go to Stanford to play basketball (to those of you on my teams, you know this was never going to happen, but I can dream, right?). It was not until I was in 8th grade and drumming on the basketballs that I realized music was the path for me. My freshman year in high school, I signed up for basketball tryouts but never went to them - instead I took 3 band classes my senior year and spent more time with my band teacher than my parents. After being rejected from music school, I found my way to a small liberal arts school located inside the University of Michigan. I continued to play music but only in Marching Band and the non-music major Pops Orchestra. I fell in love with traveling through those years and absorbed the world, spending a total of 13 months living in France, and I decided to go to law school because my dad and my band teacher thought I would make a good child advocate.

I did two things in law school: study and yoga. I had learned about yoga prior to law school, but there is no better time to practice than when you are hunched over books surrounded by the law all day. I started going more often. But that pull to yoga was in direct contrast to the life I was beginning to live in school. I remember telling people that I had never made a major life decision on my own. I went to the University of Michigan because my family went there (it was my choice, but it was not a difficult one), I went to France to teach because I was accepted, I went to law school because people said I would be good at the law. In law school, however, I found myself stuck. I did fairly well academically, so doors should have been open, but the job market and my distaste for life at a law firm (for me, not for others) meant those doors were being slammed in my face instead. I took the rejections personally, thought I had made a hugely wrong decision, and wondered how I was ever going to get out from under a mountain of debt while working at Starbucks. I literally did not know what to do, until I let go. 

I was blessed with what I consider the best opportunity upon graduating from law school. I clerked for the Presiding Family Court Judge in Pima County, who was transferred to be the Presiding Juvenile Court Judge while I was working for her. I saw the nitty-gritty of the family and juvenile courts. I met attorneys practicing in the area where I want to practice, and I saw what worked and what can still be improved. In short, I found my path. And that job literally fell in my lap. I had been rejected from job after job, and my resume suggested that should not have happened. But the universe had different plans. I found out about the job with my first boss from about five different people, including a friend of hers, one of my professors, career services, the Dean of the law school, and even the judge herself. The universe was right, as usual, and it was an amazing year. My current job, while not quite as universe-driven, is still right where I need to be. It allows me to see the entire legal process and how the law operates in the absence of face-to-face contact. I have a new appreciation for the law as law, and a fresh understanding of where my future legal career will take me.

Perhaps most interestingly, my current job has given me the opportunity to drum on basketballs again, but this time moving away from music and towards yoga. I have been saying for years that I miss playing music, and I do. When I moved to Phoenix in August, I decided that I was going to do a Yoga Teacher Training Program. Classes are Tuesday and Thursday evenings. The first week I was working, one of the other judges sent out an email that the orchestra with which he plays was looking for percussionists. Rehearsals are Tuesday evenings. I fretted for about 2 minutes. I saw myself drumming on basketballs and knew that the Universe was speaking to me again. I chose yoga, without regret. Might I seek out an opportunity to play percussion again? Of course. But I had to stop grasping onto that past. And it was then that I realized that I really never have made a decision in my life. I know the answer when I let go and listen. The only times I have been distraught about what to do are the times when I try to decide against what my heart says, when I allow societal norms to dictate my decisions, when I grasp onto a particular outcome instead of allowing my life to unfold. This job and that decision have allowed me to be in a place where I see how important it is to me to integrate law and yoga in my life. These are not either-or decisions - I know that they must coexist.

On the mat, I have learned also to grasp less. As I mentioned in my New Year's post, many yogis have a tendency to grasp with their toes in postures. But when we let go of that, sink into postures, and feel the strength, support, and energy of the Earth below, we truly find the pose. Not grasping is, however, different than no direction and not using your feet in a pose. Quite the opposite. The feet are the foundation in standing postures. Direction is how we ensure that our lives are fulfilling our passions. Not grasping is about trusting. You trust your feet enough that you don't hold on with your toes. You will not fall. And if you do, you will catch yourself. You can stop trying to dictate the outcome of the universe and open up to the possibilities knowing that if you are following your passion, the doors will never cease to open. I used to be scared to death that I would not find a job, and I would be crushed by law school debt. But now I know that somehow life will work out. The average lawyer changes jobs 5 times in his career, and most lawyers change jobs at least once within 5 years of law school graduation. We are not a profession designed to hold onto our past. The law changes, society changes, and we move along.  

I have no idea how I will integrate my passion for helping children in the legal context with my passion for yoga. I know that one catalyst to becoming a teacher was my desire to teach yoga in a Juvenile Detention Center, but that is only one way. I know I will find others. In class this week, we talked about how you can teach yoga and keep your day job. One of the most uplifting statistics I read during this recession is that enrollment in both Yoga Teacher Training programs and attendance at yoga studios is up. Yes, that expensive habit called yoga is attracting more and more people each day. People are willing to take the plunge, step off the known path and into one that might be a bit scary, but it is full of possibility. As I wait to hear about whether I will get to go to New Zealand on a Fulbright scholarship, and I wonder what I will do for money once my job ends in August, I am no longer having the freak out sessions I had my second and third years in law school. I am here for a reason.

Of course, some days my toes grasp the mat a little too tightly, I forget about the mountain of support I have in the world, and I worry that August will roll around, and I will find myself jobless and in debt. This is why yoga and the law are a practice. These yamas are a bridge, and each new job is also a step along the practice of law. Interestingly, what makes lawyers ethically competent is the ability to read and learn. We never know the answers, we just continue to get as many tools in the toolbox and trust our instincts and our colleagues to do what is right.

Namaste and Blessings.

Bramacharya

The essence of bramacharya is that it signifies the point in a young man's (of course) spiritual quest where he would begin studying under a Guru and become celibate. So what does it have to do with modern life, especially a lawyer's life? At face value, probably nothing, but if there is any profession that is expected to look beyond face value, it is lawyers. Not just lawyers, but all of us, gain so much by looking past the surface and understanding the essence of the teachings, and the essence of bramacharya is, perhaps, the most important yama for lawyers and modern society. 

Bramacharya is when we recognize that yoga is a spiritual discipline, first and foremost. Like many Native American societies where adolescent boys would go on their Vision Quests, and like a Bar Mitzvah, where Jewish boys accepted their place at the Torah, bramacharya is the point at which a yoga practitioner becomes a spiritual seeker. After learning about nonviolence, truthfulness, and nonstealing, we might give up sensual pleasures and begin serious studies. So, bramacharya is about freeing ourselves from our senses in order to continue on the path. I feel a bit scared writing this - spiritual path is a loaded phrase. The great thing about living in the 21st century, however, is that we get to choose what that phrase means for us. Bramacharya, for us, can be the point at which we make the conscious choice to make a conscious choice, the point at which yoga is no longer about the yoga butt and deep breaths, but about a way of life.

The question we must ask ourselves, put best in my Yoga Teacher Training manual, is, "Who is in control? You or your senses?" It is almost cliche to say that in modern society we are bombarded by sensual (and I mean this in its true form - that which pertains to the senses, all five of them) stimuli. Everyday our food tastes sweeter, our music gets louder, our computers get faster, our movies jump off the screen, our tvs are clearer than live, and have you looked around? We are literally exploding! Obesity, heart disease, cancer, and chronic pain have taken over the world, and we have no idea what to do about it. Or do we? Who is in control? Do you consciously choose to text message while driving, while eating, while listening to music? Did you stop and take a deep breath before you did that? I saw "Avatar." The effects were absolutely amazing, but I needed some serious cool-down time after. I needed to tune out - literally. Our senses are being overloaded. In order to practice bramacharya, we need not become monks, but we must be conscious of who/what is in control of our actions.

Yoga used to be a secret spiritual path, passed down from guru to student. In the small world of the Temple or ashram, it was easier to live a life of asceticism. It is the same way that nuns and priests could live those lives in a convent and a church (I'm not going to talk about the priest issue, but that is very interesting to this topic). Today's spiritual and yoga masters have, however, recognized that this secret, but small world, is no longer possible. Not because of modern technology entering their secret worlds, either. It can no longer exist because the world needs more people following the path, even if it is not a "perfect" path. While yoga studios are ubiquitous, and various forms of yoga are taught at LA Fitness, more than asana has penetrated peoples' thoughts. Ancient texts have been translated, women have become monks, and the Dalai Lama (not an Indian yogi, but one of the masters who recognizes the need to teach the masses) speaks to sold-out auditoriums wherever he goes. I was honored to spend an evening with Paul Grilley (yin yoga / chakra teacher), and he mentioned that we are at a point in evolution where these teachings must come forth, or humanity might destroy itself. Some people will take these teachings and run, people like James Ray who turned an ancient and beautiful sweat lodge into a place where people die. But even with people like Ray, and in my humble opinion Bikram yoga, the world needs more people willing to step onto the path, to make yoga a daily practice. As I watch the likes of Glenn Beck and Rush Limbaugh dominate the news, I know that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. There is light popping up everywhere, and bramacharya is a reminder that yoga is different than running. It is a spiritual path, but it is one we can formulate to ourselves. (I plan to write a lot more about the personalization of yoga in future posts, so stay tuned.)

So, where are we left? We need not move to an ashram, give up all worldly goods, and become celibate. We need not spend weeks fasting, nor meditate 3 hours per day. But being conscious of our senses taking over will help open us to the possibility of connecting with ourselves and others more deeply. Spring would not be as lovely without the winter before it (trust me, I live in Phoenix now). We all know you cannot pay full attention to the road when you are texting. Being overrun with advertisements, emails, the news, food, drink, etc., however, takes our focus away from each moment of life just as strongly. But we can control our senses while still enjoying life. We can truly enjoy our dinner instead of inhaling it - each day needing something sweeter, more potent to entice us.

Some days an ashram sounds nice. But the path today is to get out into the world, to bring the light to the masses. Many yoga teachers talk about integrating yoga off the mat, into your life. Seane Corn (another popular yogi) has an organization called Off the Mat, Into the World, in which she travels to poor regions of the world to provide a week of volunteerism while also teaching yoga classes. So yes, we can be lawyers, psychologists, teachers, students, friends, partners, whatever, and integrate these teachings how we want. In fact, the masters have asked that we do. That is why we even know these teachings exist. So, here is to taking that deep breath before eating, putting down the cell phone in the car, and watching something live instead of on HD in our living rooms . . . at least sometimes.

Blessings and Namaste!

© Copyright 2010. Rebecca Stahl.

Asteya

It has been far too long since I last posted. I have been busy in a way that I have not felt busy before, sort of juggling life in so many different ways, not responding to emails, and actually not even doing yoga for this past week. And I have realized two very important things. First, I need to do yoga. It has become my life force, my energy, my source of strength, spiritually, physically, and emotionally, and this past week has been painful. Of course, that is literal - I hurt my shoulder, which is why I have not been practicing, but I realize that is just an excuse. I feel like I have stolen something from myself, which goes right into today's yama - asteya, which means not stealing. 

The second thing I have realized is that while I have been "violating" this yama, the main source of my time consumption has been fulfilling its other side - charity. The opposite of stealing is giving, and I have been spending all my free time creating an email list for an organization to which I belong. It felt great to do it, but I realize how taxing it was on me. I was consumed with getting it done. Of course, a major reason I had to spend the last two weeks doing it almost exclusively is because I took so much me-time over the holidays. 

Once again, I find myself looking for balance. I cannot think of a religion that does not command that we do not steal. I certainly know that the law forbids it. But how often do we think about stealing from ourselves? How often do we think that to truly fulfill the notion of not stealing, we are required to also give? I know that Jews are commanded to leave 1/10 (I used to think it was 1/7 until my uncle corrected me) of their crop for the poor. But I never considered that the other side of the stealing coin. I never put the two in the same boat. How often do we think about not stealing in the abstract? If nothing else, thinking and writing about the yamas and niyamas has opened up my eyes to what these basic notions mean. When you really take a step back and consider them, they are incredibly powerful.

The legal world is full of situations where we can either promote asteya or violate it. Ethically, lawyers are encouraged to provide 50 hours of pro bono (free) service each year. That is more than a week's worth of work per year. I cannot say that every lawyer does it, but I know many who do, and I know many more who far exceed those fifty hours. I work with an organization in which people volunteer hours and money to not only ensure the organization functions, but this year, with so many people out of work, the scholarship donations were larger than ever. I cannot help but be inspired by this. 

Of course, the law provides numerous opportunities each day to steal. I could talk about lawyers stealing money from their clients or the clients themselves being criminals, but those are obvious. What about all the time we steal from one another? What about the frivolous motions that are filed instead of picking up a phone and working something out? What about taking extra time on a project in order to make a few extra dollars? This is not stealing that is either unethical or criminal, but it is stealing in the asteya sense. It has consequences larger than the minute action.

Like all of the yamas, asteya is part of the ladder that supports our interactions with each other. When we take small pieces from each other and from ourselves, those pieces add up. As we get away with one, we think that it was not so bad and take a little bit more next time. Before we know it, we have created a Ponzi scheme out of our own life. Though most of us will never have the ability to steal as much as Madoff, stealing non-physically is potentially more dangerous. Recognizing what it truly means to give and to steal is vitally important.

When I was in law school, I volunteered a lot. I volunteered in legal clinics and in the law school community. Because of my current job, I am unable to do much of what I used to do, and it hurts. I miss giving. I miss being charitable. Interestingly, I have started to donate more money - perhaps because I finally have a paycheck, but I think it is actually to make up for not being able to give with my time. I actually feel like something is missing, is stolen from me. Luckily, yoga has provided one outlet. It is also what changed my yoga practice from only a calming/physical practice to 

that which guides my life. I have started dedicating each class to someone or many people in need of it. Some days, that dedication is to a family member or friend. Other days it is to something much larger, such as those in Haiti. But this ability to give my practice to others has made my practice that much more fulfilling for me.

Asteya, therefore, is about being able to find that joy in giving, about being able to give and be fulfilled by it, not feel like you are stealing from yourself or others. It certainly is about not stealing money and items from others (as my teacher said, remind your students not to steal anyone's mat). But it is about the non-physical acts as well. I think my shoulder injury was a reminder of how important yoga is to me. I needed to be forced to give it up in order to realize how much it has given me. And the greatest gift I have received is the ability to give to others through my practice, the ability to practice asteya even when ethical constraints prohibit me from always giving externally.

Thank you for sharing this time with me. I hope to be back on here more regularly as I continue to open my eyes and heart to the yamas, niyamas, and all that yoga has to offer to me, the legal world, and the world in general.

Namaste and Blessings.

© Copyright 2009. Rebecca Stahl. All Rights Reserved. (of course it would violate asteya to post this without my permission, but with a link to the blog, you certainly have my permission).

Satya

Satya is the second yama or ethical precept, the first of the 8 limbs of yoga. Satya means truthfulness. I have been a bit worried to write about truthfulness on the blog about lawyers. Isn't this where all lawyer jokes begin? But that is the point of this blog, to move beyond these preconceived notions. Truthfulness has a lot of levels; it means a lot more than not lying. When I was a YMCA camper and counselor, I was guided by the Four core values: 1) Respect, 2) Caring, 3) Honesty, and 4) Responsibility. In a sense, they were the precursor to the yoga principles by which I try to live my life today. There were always jokes about them back when I was a kid. We would be goofing around, poking fun at one another, and someone would say, "that's not very respectful." The obvious retort was, "yes, but it's honest!" Satya, for this very reason, is broader than always being truthful.

According to my Yoga Teacher Training Manual, the ancient texts say, 

Speak that which is true.

Speak that which is pleasant.

Do not speak that which is true and unpleasant.

Do not speak that which is pleasant and untrue. 

A different way to say this is that being unpleasant, seeing that which is negative, by definition means you are failing to see the truth. As usual, there is a thin line between truth and tact, but is that always the case? Must we fail to see the forest for the trees? If we take a step back, we can be both, and we can live from this truthfulness in a meaningful and respectful way.

Of all the yamas, satya may be the one that touches me the deepest. I have struggled with being truthful in my life, and if asked now, I would probably say that I struggle with being tactful when the truth needs to be stated. I have found that this tension comes up over and over again in the law and life, and how we handle it sets the foundation for our relationships. 

I think the most potent example of satya in the law exists in how lawyers interact when the other side makes a less-than-plausible argument. Without going into specifics, it is safe to say that lawyers generally do not choose their clients, and short of frivolous arguments, lawyers must make arguments to the court if their clients want them to do it. What has always fascinated me is that in many types of law, lawyers will represent both sides at various times. In Family Law, for example, a lawyer could be hired by the mother in one case who wants to move to another state with her child, and the father in the next case trying to stop his ex-wife from moving (not the same parties, obviously, but the same situation). The lawyer will be asked, therefore, to represent both sides of a legal argument, just with different facts. In these situations, lawyers living and working from a place of satya would be able to recognize that when the other side makes an argument, it is just that, an argument. And the legal system at its best is just searching for the truth. Lawyers failing to work from a place of satya will see the other side's argument and call it ridiculous, or worse. But we all know that both sides are just doing their job, right?

I have never seen a better example of needing to step back, and consider another perspective. Satya teaches us to both see that perspective, honor it, and if we disagree, to do so pleasantly. In politics, politicians are derided for so-called flip-flopping. While I will never condone changing a viewpoint for political gain, I am genuinely inspired by politicians who put their reputations on the line by saying, "I was wrong" when they recognize that their old views were not in line with their current views, usually after learning more facts. It happens rarely, but when it does, it is an opportunity to recognize that they have allowed truth to win over politics. I wish we lived in a world that could honor this sort of reflection and not turn it into a punchline.

In my own life, the punchline of satya from my childhood has informed my current struggle with the tension. A friend, who is a lawyer, and who has only gone to yoga once in her life recently said that both yoga and lawyers "are trying to find some ultimate truth." For someone who has struggled with truth for so many years, I am glad to have both of these systems guiding my future. 

Blessings and Namaste!

© Copyright 2009. Rebecca Stahl. All Rights Reserved.

Ahimsa

Ahimsa is the first yama. As I mentioned in my last post, I am going to examine each of the yamas and niyamas and how they might provide some guidance in the legal community and in our everyday lives. A friend requested that I explain the yamas and niyamas a bit more along the way. The most basic definition is that the yamas are ethical disciplines and the niyamas are about self discipline. Thus, the yamas guide our actions within the world, and the niyamas guide our internal actions. Of course, the two are interrelated, and that which we do to ourselves influences how we interact with others and vice versa. So, with the first yama, we see how yoga instructs us to first interact with the rest of the world.

Ahimsa means nonviolence. This is far broader than physical nonviolence. It really means nonviolence in speech, action, and thought. It is because of ahimsa that so many yogis choose a vegetarian lifestyle. (For the record, I am not a vegetarian, but it is an easy way to understand how some interpret ahimsa.) The other side of nonviolence is compassion for all living beings. This means all living beings, from ourselves, to our best friends, to  those we sometimes do not want to be around, to animals, and even cockroaches (this one is tough, but that is the meaning of ahimsa).

Ahimsa is the first of the yamas for a reason - it encompasses all the others and provides the foundation for all the others. There is no way to interact with the world ethically if you are being violent, in any sense of the world. So what does this mean? How do we live in a nonviolent manner?

I have been facing many situations recently that have tested my ability to follow ahimsa, and many of them have had to do with customer service situations. These are often the situations that try my patience and my nonviolence. The most trying situation was with Sprint. I will spare you the details of the situation, but let me say that it required more than one phone call to the the customer service number, one of which ended with me being routed from a supervisor back to the main line, just to be put on hold indefinitely until I gave up. The final phone call ended up with them making an appointment for me at the service center, and when I got there, I was informed that those appointments are never seen by the service center. Luckily they still helped me - sort of. Throughout the entire situation, I was pretty upset with my lack of internet, and I made this known, but I also tried to be as polite as possible and tell everyone with whom I interacted that while I thought Sprint's policies were ridiculous and I was upset, that I also recognized that it was not the individual's fault, and I tried to thank each person. But I was upset, and I got annoyed, and I know that I was not as nice as I could have been nor as nice as I would have liked. These everyday annoyances, like phone companies and drivers who cut us off test our patience in ways we do not expect. They catch us in the moment, inconvenience us, and in the modern world, that is tough to handle. 

Our legal system is set up in a way that makes ahimsa seem nearly impossible. It is an adversary system, and by definition this usually means a winner and a loser. Lawyers are ethically bound to zealously advocate for their clients, even if it means toeing that ethical line discussed in the last post. But ask any successful and well-respected lawyer, and invariably he or she will tell you that you cannot get to be successful by being a jerk. Instead, respect and success come from treating the "other side" decently and picking up the phone to call the other lawyer before filing a motion complaining to the court when the other lawyer does something you do not think is right. These people have discovered their own definition of ahimsa - how to interact in a system that sometimes appears designed to cause violence without succumbing to it. It's about seeing the situation for what it is, a company's policies, not the person at the customer service desk. 

Ahimsa in modern culture is about not beating ourselves up when we choose to take some time for ourselves. What better day to experience this than Christmas, where nearly everything is closed? There are other days during the year when I have nothing to do, but there are so many distractions. Grocery stores and yoga studios are open. There are places to go, things to do, people to see. On Christmas, however, many of those distractions are gone, and except for movies and Chinese food, we Jews have had to learn to fend for ourselves. When I was a child, I remember being nervous - what if we needed food and nothing was open? To some extent, I felt the same way this year and remedied my fear with a trip to Trader Joe's on Tuesday. But why? Can I not spend one day in my house? What would that look like to others? I originally was going to spend Christmas in my house, but I have changed my mind, and instead, I'm going to take a walk - to the movie theater. I don't treat myself to very many movies in the theater, and it is such a tradition for Jews that I had to partake in it, but on my terms. And on Christmas, it's okay to do nothing because by modern definitions, there is nothing to do, except exactly what matters - spend time with ourselves and those we love. 

I walked out of the movie theater and felt an immense sense of love for the world. Today, even though I am physically alone (by choice), I feel more connected to everyone around me. On Christmas, it's okay to say hello to the person walking down the street. On other days, people look the other way. What a relief to be able to set everything aside for one day, to revel in the feeling of connection and not violence, and to be with each other, on any level.

I began this post by saying that the yamas are about how we, as individuals, interact with the rest of the world - the ethical precepts. But that begins with ourselves. Until we learn to be nonviolent with ourselves, we will carry that violence throughout our interactions with others. In the modern world, it is all too easy to carry our distractions with us, especially professionals like lawyers, whose jobs pay for the blackberry / crackberry. Letting go of obligations, realizing that it's okay to do "nothing," and taking care of ourselves are probably the hardest ways to be nonviolent with ourselves in modern culture. We can turn off our phones; we can say no to another obligation; and we can choose to take a day and not do anything, even when all the stuff and distractions are open. We can even smile at the person walking down the street. 

There is much more to say about ahimsa - about our speech, our clothes, our interactions with ourselves and each other - but for now, I'm going to leave it here. Thank you all for the support, the connections, and the opportunity to share this journey with you. I wish all of you a very Merry Christmas and happy holidays!

Blessings and Namaste!

A ladder to something new

When I began writing this blog, I envisioned it beginning with this post. I wanted to start with the yamas and niyamas, the ethical teachings of yoga and the first two of the 8 limbs of yoga. I wanted to discuss how they could be useful to the legal profession. Instead, I went off on a tangent, which has been useful to me, and I hope, interesting to you. Well, the universe has intervened again. We are currently on break for two weeks from the yoga teacher training program, and our homework over break is to write about one of the yamas and niyamas each day and journal about how we could use them as themes for yoga classes. I will spare you from my postings each and every day for the next ten days, but I will write them, and they will be posted at a rate of probably two per week, and over the course of the next month, I hope you share your thoughts and ideas with me and each other.

So what are the yamas and niyamas? Well, the easiest and most relevant explanation is that they are like the yoga ten commandments. They help guide the yogis actions with himself and with the rest of the world. They guide the yogi practitioner on the spiritual path. Specifically, there are five yamas and five niyamas, and they are the first and second of the eight limbs of yoga. As reference, asana (postures)is the third limb and pranayama (breath work) is the fourth limb.

Lawyers also have a code of ethics, and it has always been the most difficult part of the law for me to reconcile with the rest of my life. First, when you start talking about lawyer ethics, the joke, of course, is that lawyers have no ethics. I am going to refrain from going down that path, but the perception exists, and I believe there is a reason it exists. By no means do I believe that lawyers have no ethics; I actually believe lawyers have wonderful ethics. That is, if those ethics are judged by the code. I see the Code of Ethics as a floor, not a ladder. (For you non-lawyers, a common legal argument is that something is a floor, not a ceiling). I say ladder here because that is exactly what the yamas and niyamas are. They are the ladder that begins the yogic path. They are the foundation, but they also travel along with the other limbs, providing guidance along the entire path, not just the baseline below which the yogi hopes to never fall.

By contrast, a lawyer can go an entire career without violating the code of ethics and be far from moral. Any ethics (sorry, Professional Responsibility) professor with whom I have spoken says that if you judge your actions by the Code, you miss the point. The Code, therefore, is a floor. It is the bare minimum by which you will not be disbarred. It does not create a higher path, a pursuit, a ladder to something greater. There are, however, many legal organizations that do strive for this higher goal. One of them, Phi Delta Phi, is known as the legal ethics fraternity. At one time, a majority of the United States Supreme Court were members. There are also the Inns of Court, a group of lawyers, judges, and often law professors and law students to discuss issues of professionalism and ethics in the profession. These organizations use the Code as a baseline and look for ways to be the best professionals, guided by something different than a Code. They create their own ladders.

I used to differentiate between ethics and morals in my head, saying that the Code of Ethics could keep you out of trouble, but morals should guide your actions - at least mine. I do not want to get into those semantics. If ethics is what you strive to achieve, that is great. But should it be a floor? Should you strive to walk the line as closely as possible? I would say that the vast majority of lawyers I know go far beyond this minimum. In fact, I can think of only one or two who walk that line with any regularity. But that is not the point. The point is that there is a difference between expecting the minimum from people and asking them to achieve their best. That is a semantics argument I am happy to make.

The following analogy may first appear to make no sense, but please bear with me.  When I lived in France, you had to buy your plastic bags at the grocery store. They cost between 3 and 5 cents - certainly did not break the bank - but I would rarely see people leave the grocery store with more than one plastic bag, and usually they brought their own. That was just the way it was. In the United States, you get 5 cents at many grocery stores (or the chance to win $25 at Trader Joe's), and I rarely see people take their own bags to places like Safeway, Albertson's and Fry's (Trader Joe's and other natural food stores are an exception, but for a different reason, I think.) The difference is the mentality between "saving" five cents or spending an extra five. Saving five cents is not much of an incentive. It takes a long time for that to add up to any "real" money, but they are not going to make me pay an extra five cents for a bag when it should be free! That's the difference between the floor and the ladder.

When you offer people a floor, what's the point of going higher? They must look externally for motivation and insight. When you offer people a ladder, promising spiritual enlightenment as the result, people act differently.  So, going back to basics on this blog, I am going to begin to explore that ladder.

Here is a taste of what is to come . . . a list of the yamas and niyamas:

Yamas:

Ahimsa - nonviolence

Satya - truthfulness

Asteya - not stealing

Brahmacharya - dedicated to the divinity of life

Aparigraha - non-grasping

Niyamas:

Shaucha - purity

Tapas - burning enthusiasm (this could explain Spain)

Santosha - Contentment

Swadhyaya - self-study

Ishvarapranidhana - Celebration of the spiritual

Before I go, I would like to thank the universe and my yoga teachers for nudging me, through a homework assignment, to go back to where I always wanted to be.

Blessings and Namaste!

© Copyright 2009. Rebecca Stahl. All Rights Reserved.