For all the words . . .

I have written a lot on this blog, albeit not as frequently as I would like. For all the words, however, these past two weeks have been intense - physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Before going into the discussion of the niyamas as I did for the yamas, I want to take a moment to recognize what may be the most important lesson in yoga, and the one that is potentially the most important for modern society, especially lawyers. For all the words we write and speak, for all our good intentions and beliefs, for all of our hard work, sometimes we get slapped in the face and kicked in the gut. Sometimes we fall out of postures, and sometimes even when we know that life has a funny way of working out, we freak out, and we fall. But just like on the mat, we can get right back into it.

These past few weeks have really tested my stress and anxiety levels. Between being extremely busy, worried about presentations, worried about work, and preparing to teach my first yoga classes, not to mention the regular stuff that comes up, life has been intense. And for all the years of meditating, qi gong, and asana, I have felt sick to my stomach, and I have not been sleeping well. But I have fallen out of asanas before. I have had bad weeks before. Tibetan Buddhist Meditation teaches that when a thought arises during meditation, you think to yourself, "thinking" and go back to the breath. There is no judgment about the thought; it is just a thought. Yoga is no different; when you fall out of an asana, there is no judgment. You just get back into it. But here is the best part - the more times you fall, and the more times you get back into it, the better the body remembers how to stay in the asana. Before long, you are doing that which you once thought impossible. Your words and practice become knowing and wisdom.

So, even on the tough days, the words have meaning. They help bring us back to the truth. Lawyers speak and write a lot of words. We are a profession defined by words. But what do we do with them? Do we use them as a means to an end? Are we careful about what we say and how we say it? Some days, we are better at living up to our words than others. We can prepare for a hearing, a trial, even a meeting with "the other side" until we are blue in the face, but when the moment arrives, we must let go and trust in our training and practice. For all the words, we must trust that all the falls along the way lead us to where we need to be.

This is nothing new. The difference with yoga is that instead of saying "when you fall off your horse, brush yourself off and get back on," yoga is the path that helps us know how to get back on. Each limb is another tool. So far, we have discussed the yamas on this blog - the first limb, the connection to others. Next up is the niyamas, the second limb. The niyamas are about connecting to ourselves, finding the peace within. Then we learn how to breathe with pranayama. Each tool helps us remember what to do when we fall, when everything seems so out of whack. The tools remind us that deep down the universe is working.

Today I went to two yoga classes, and after each of them I felt a little better, a little more at peace. And I'm starting to feel strong again, in asana, in pranayama, and those are reminders that the words are working. These thoughts that flow forth on this blog may not be the most profound writings on the planet, but they are reminders to me, and hopefully to you, that the junk that arises is just that, junk. The truth is deeper, and our words, whether about yoga, the law, our anger, our joy, our love, our pain, whatever, are the guides that keep us plugging along. 

After all, this is a practice. May your practice help guide your life to peace.

Namaste and blessings.

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.

Happy New Year

Today is a special New Year - a blue moon. The last one was in 1990, and the next one will be in 2028. Other than the fact that this is cool, it has absolutely nothing to do with this post. But it's still cool! (As an absolute, but important parenthesis, I want to say that my initial reaction to this was that it was so special, I had to do something huge to honor it. But recently, I have tried to move away from that mentality, to recognize each moment as special, to stop saving good bottles of wine, tourist attractions, etc. for a special day. I could say a lot more about this, but the NY Times already has. Click here for a great article.)

This post is, instead, about community and today's "aha" moment! In a sense, I'm taking a break from my discussion about the yamas, though this aha moment was inspired by one of the yamas, I will get to it later and its significance to this post. But this morning, I was doing Uttkatasana (Chair or lightening pose), and I found myself gripping my toes. Now, I have known for months, years probably, not to grip my toes. I concentrate on it, work not to, and work to ground through the heels. But today that concept took on an entirely new meaning, and it has to do with my pectoral muscles.

As I mentioned previously, I have some hamstring issues, and I wrote about a new understanding of that in a previous post. Something I learned that night, which should have been obvious to me previously, was that the pain in the back body is often caused by tightness in the pectoral muscles. Well, for me, that pain had been traveling down into the hamstrings. Since that day, I have been working on stretching across my chest, and the hamstring is slowly but surely starting to improve. I was stretching my arm against a wall right before my Uttkatasana this morning, and it all came together.

In Yoga Teacher Training, our teacher has often talked about the front body representing the individual, the self, the ego and the back body representing the community and our support. Modern culture, especially in the United States, is all about the individual. Culturally, we love stories of people pulling themselves up by their bootstraps and overcoming all apparent obstacles. I recently saw "The Blind Side," which was an awesome movie, but I came out of it wondering why we cannot help all those kids. While talking to someone about this, she asked what we should be doing, and I said supporting them. Her response was, "Eventually people have to take control of their own lives." That statement felt like a baseball bat to the chest, and I did not have a good aswer until today.

Buddhism teaches about the Triple Gem or the Triple Refuge: 1) The Buddha (himself), 2) The Dharma (his teachings), and 3) The Sangha (the community of his noble disciples). Jesus also had his disciples. Jews come together to study Torah. In other words, we cannot do it alone. I look around my yoga classes, and I see a lot of gripping toes. I see a lot of people leaning forward when proper alignment to protect ourselves is to lean back. Walking down the street, I see people who have their necks pressing forward, or worse yet, forward and down. Sitting at our desks, many of us hunch forward, breathe shallowly, and often forget we have a back . . . until it screams so loudly, we have bulging discs and need surgery.

We have forgotten the community, the sangha, our back body. We have forgotten that we don't have to do this alone!

I understood before today that the gripping toes were a reminder that I need to let go. I understood that the pecs were helping to cause the hamstring pain. But this morning's "aha" moment was that there is a world of support out there, that I exist within a community, and that our bodies are a constant reminder that it is okay to reach out to that community. Because officially, this blog is about lawyers, I'm going to merely point out that lawyers excel at being individuals. Even within a law firm, new associates literally fight for the best cases, try to outdo one another, and end up burning out. In law school, we were encouraged to find mentors, to attend as many social gatherings as we could. I hate small talk as much as the next person, but I have secretly always loved going to cocktail hours (and not for the free cocktails). It is there that communities are formed, mentors are created, and once that happens, you cannot exist in a bubble. You have to be a good person once the community is smaller. It is at those plastic events where I have discovered that the people I respect the most in this profession are the ones who have never gone it alone.

Thank you all for sharing this journey with me, for being part of my community, in whatever capacity you are, even if I have never met you in person. May this new year be filled with joy, love, and lots of community.

Blessings and Namaste!

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!