Re-posted From Ascent magazine:

hatha yoga and the practice of tonglen

moving the heart and mind:
by kimberly beyer-nelson

How do we work our minds when we have met our match? Rather than indulge or reject our experience, we can somehow let the energy of the emotion, the quality of what we’re feeling pierce us to the heart. This is easier said than done, but it is a noble way to live. It’s definitely the path of compassion—the path of cultivating human bravery and kindheartedness. —When Things Fall Apart, Pema Chodron

Breathe into the tension, the places where you are holding, and wait for the opening to come.” As a student, I can still remember these words and the early struggles of correctly breathing with an asana, impatient for the openings to come, forcing my breath and concentration to work together. As my early practice deepened, I began to understand that the instructions pointed to a dynamic method of inquiry into the reality of the body, mind and emotions. Hatha Yoga teachers and literature talked about using breathing and attention to clarify the experience of a posture hovering in the grey area between a good gentle stretch and discomfort.
Later, as a teacher, I exhorted my students to tune into the breath to deepen their understanding of a given asana. Yet there always seemed to be something missing to the bare technique I had learned and was passing on to my students. Maybe it was a simple lack of direction about how to effectively visualize the mind-breath-body interaction, or perhaps I was unconsciously searching for a way to move the practice off the mat and into the real world. In any case, one warm summer morning, I stumbled onto a wonderful method to expand my experience ofHatha Yoga. In my meditation practice, I had been working with a Tibetan maitri (lovingkindness) technique calledTonglen for about three years. On that summer day I noticed that quite unconsciously I had begun to use the breathwork of this meditation practice while working with uttanasana (the forward bend).

Tonglen practice yokes the openhearted experience of the present moment through the in-breath with a sending out of space, acceptance and lightness through the out-breath. A startling reversal of meditation practices that breathe in positive qualities and breathe out negative feelings or energy, Tonglen instead asks the practitioner to mentally and emotionally move into the pain, be it emotional or, in the case of a Hatha Yoga practice, physical. The out-breath then carries the messages of healing, openness and compassion into the discomfort. Thus, the practitioner both experiences tension or discomfort deeply, then actively seeks to touch that spot with an outbreath filled with the healing energy of the heart.

While in uttanasana, I breathed in the sensations of tension and holding, moving my heart and mind deeply into my body. On the exhale, I softly sent out light, comfort and ease into the stiffness. With my inhalation, I also touched the painful thoughts and emotions that surrounded the forward bend—hints of frustration, impatience and internal critics. With every exhalation, I directed gentleness, openness and compassion to my tight body and busy mind. That day, for the very first time, I moved easily, gently, compassionately into uttanasana. The posture was not textbook perfect in form, but my personal experience of the asana was transformed. I felt a glow of compassion for those places where my body is loath to open. A lighthearted playfulness surfaced within me as I continued my practice that day.

Shortly thereafter, I began to teach the technique to my students, many of whom were older women just beginning to mindfully acknowledge the presence and character of their own bodies. For these students, it is so easy to become frustrated with themselves, and denigrate the lovely efforts they make during their practice. Introducing Tonglen meditation has given my students the permission to love their tight spots, to embrace their imperfections with smiles and acceptance.

Today, at the gas station, the attendant was having a rough day. He’d spilled his cola, and while trying to mop it up with one hand, seized my proffered credit card with a glare. On most days I would have been emotionally stymied between pity for his situation and internal anger for being labeled non-verbally as part of his problem. But today, I took a deep breath, touching the situation with an open heart and a non-reactive mind, and breathed out feelings of compassion. I didn’t say a word; just softened and opened to his pain and mine. He turned, handed back card and credit slip, and his face seemed a little less hard. Lesson for the day? Compassion is not pity, and it is not some way to sugarcoat painful situations. It means moving into the pain, seeing with all of our being the reality of what one finds there, and then transforming it, in at least the confines of our own minds and hearts.

This, to me, is the very essence of Hatha Yoga: out of an awareness of limits, tension and form come openness, energetic transformation and space. OM