Turn to the great yogis to manage ‘those people’
It’s that glorious time of year when we finesse how to get through the festive season with a minimum amount of pain and suffering, and a maximum amount of calm and joy.
It happens every year. We panic about not having enough plans, stress about having too many, feel guilty about who we’ll see and who we won’t.
And especially this year with Covid and politics and the state of the world consuming so many of our thoughts, we’re challenged to find hints of the pleasure, the lightness, the cheery fun the season promises. Or at least used to.
So, before we get any deeper into December, let’s pause to consider how to navigate the annual romp without dreaming of a coconut drink in the tropics.
Wait, that doesn’t sound so bad, does it?
Barring that, I’d like to delve into a tried-and-true bit of wisdom from the deeply worn knowledge of yoga. It’s a famous teaching known as Sutra 1:33 — meaning the 33rd statement tucked into the first chapter of ancient writings called the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali — often considered the most detailed explanation of consciousness ever written.
Take it to the tropics for a mind-blowing read in January. Just make sure you have a return ticket and someone watching over you, or we may find you months later, blissed out, under a palm tree.
Which doesn’t sound so bad either.
The writings, from 2,000 years ago and interpreted by many, still form the basis of yoga philosophy, scrawled by the sage Patanjali long before yoga tights made searching for enlightenment so much more fashionable and no longer cheap.
Here’s what Sutra 1:33 says: Undisturbed calmness of mind is attained by cultivating friendliness toward the happy, compassion for the unhappy, delight in the virtuous, and indifference toward the wicked.
That last suggestion gets people all worked up but hang on a minute and let’s see what it all means.
Here’s an example: Suppose you run into Jerome, who is quite a complainer, an unhappy person. Your initial response may be to accuse him of causing his own pain, or labeling him a hypochondriac, which he might well be. But according to yoga philosophy, that’s not your problem, and if you take it on — “Jerome, you need to get a life!” — you’re on that slippery slope toward mind fog.
Instead, based on this sutra, you give Jerome your compassion, your ear, your caring, so you walk away with your mind free from getting in his mix, even if your heart is open. And you end up with more acceptance of your own misery which will surely come later. Sorry!
How about if you meet someone who is happy or virtuous. Are you jealous? Maybe. By treating these two categories of people with friendliness and delight, you remove the jealously from your own mind, again keeping you in a more positive frame for the only life you can actually control, your own.
Which is pathetically disappointing, I know.
And what if you meet someone you’d define as wicked, evil, despicable. The great yogis tell us to remain neutral. Why? Because, by judging them, you become intolerant and enter that morass of evil yourself. And if you wish them harm, you prevent your own angel wings from growing and contribute to the hate around you. No one says you need to be friends with them. Seriously, don’t invite them anywhere.
The bottom line is that instead of looking for fault in others, we’re advised to look for good, even if we start out biting our tongues and feel our heads will burst.
That’s why if you can’t make it to the tropics in January, you need to get out in the sunshine, make a coconut drink, and take a welldeserved soak in the tub.
If you have that yoga book in your hand, you’ll go further than the tropics could ever take you. But out of respect for the ancients, try not to get it wet.