spiritual bypass

How yoga can make childbirth and other hard things easier

Posted by Hala Khouri

 

“There is no coming into consciousness without pain.  People will do anything, no matter how absurd, in order to avoid facing their own soul.  One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.” ~ CG Jung

I’ve always been a happy person.  People always commented on how optimistic and bright I was.  All that was true, well, mostly.  Iwas happy, I was optimistic; yet my positivity was slightly manufactured.   I was positive because I refused to feel the negative stuff. You see, I believed that “everything happens for a reason”, there is nothing “bad” because those things help us grow, and that I can create my own reality.  I was positive because I had learned to bypass the negative, and that comes with at a price.

My senior year of collage I went through a difficult breakup.  He had been my high school sweetheart.  We broke up sitting in a park in downtown Manhattan.  As I boarded the subway back uptown, I was in tears.  Heartbroken.  By the time I got to my stop at 116th street the tears were gone, and I had decided this happened for a reason and it was for the best.  When my roommate asked me what happened, I told her that Al and I had broken up, but that I was fine because it was I had learned so much from the relationship and had grown from it.  I didn’t shed one tear nor feel any sadness.

 

Over- understanding

I did this with most difficult thins in my life- I like to call it “over-understanding.”  I would try to figure out the lesson in something so that I wouldn’t have to feel the pain.

Five years later, I found myself sitting in a doctor’s office being told that I had cancer cells on my cervix. My mother burst into tears. Me, I looked at her and told her that this happened to teach me a lesson about my second chakra, and I was going to embrace it. Again, not one tear or acknowledgment of fear. I knew there was a lesson and I was going to be a good student and learn it so that I wouldn’t have to face this again.  Yeah, right.

The price we pay

So what’s the price we pay for manufactured positivity?  Well, if we refuse to feel the pain, fear, grief, heartbreak, anger or rage, those emotions are held hostage in the body and make our mind and emotions unstable.  The shadow, as Jung called it, gets gagged and tied and put into a closet somewhere. And the less we acknowledge the scary stuff, the louder it bangs on the door of our psyche. If we don’t express ourselves and feel the feelings we can end up sick, disconnected, unable to have true intimacy, etc.

Yoga

For me, yoga is a practice of sitting with discomfort and breathing through it.  On the other side of sitting with this, is more freedom.  Don’t get me wrong, I spent years doing yoga without sitting with my discomfort- I was simply focused on getting the poses exactly right. One day a teacher was inviting us to try to lift our supporting hand off the floor in half moon pose.  He walked over to me and said, “try it, you won’t hurt yourself if you fall.”  I realized that I wasn’t afraid to fall, I wasn’t trying it because I was afraid of doing it imperfectly. My perfectionism was keeping me from taking risks; it was also keeping me from having to be present because all I focused on was how I could make the pose better. My habits on my mat revealed to me my habits off my mat.

As my practice matured, it got simpler, and I got more present in my body and in the moment.  As I learned to tolerate discomfort (and imperfection), I got present to the ways in which I’m limiting myself by needing to always seem so happy, perky and put together.  I began to feel my anger, rage, sadness, sensuality and fabulousness.  (The shadow is not all bad stuff by the way- it’s anything we’re afraid to acknowledge).

I’ve gotten way better at sitting with discomfort.  As a therapist, it’s one of the most important things I can do for my clients- bear witness to their pain without rushing to take it away.  As a parent, I’ve found that if I can sit with my kids’ discomfort for a moment or two they will more quickly pass through tantrums and upsets because I’m not rushing them out of their experience or trying to tell them that they shouldn’t have it.

Childbirth

During the birth of my second son, I watched my old habits come back at the point where things got very intense.  Here’s a somewhat graphic synopsis:

I’m squatting in my living room starting to push. Since I had done this before, I was overconfident.  My first birth was “easy” as far as births go, so I assumed that number two would be even easier.  I wasn’t anticipating that he would be a pound-and-a-half bigger- that makes a difference, let me assure you.  As I’m doing the final pushes and feeling like I’m going to be ripped in half, I start to get scared.  Maybe I can’t do this, I think to myself.  To cope with the pain, I start to imagine the tranquil women giving birth in a water birth video, and I imagine holding my baby in my arms, I start to breath deeply….  But each time I do that, I feel the baby slip back up the birth canal.

My midwife catches it, “No more deep breathing Hala,“ she says, “ you have to bear down and push as hard as you can, and I need you to go here, “ she points to the part of me that feels like it’s literally on fire.  This was the part I was trying to avoid with my daydreams.

Shit, I think to myself.  I know that if I don’t go there, to the most painful place in my body, I will not be able to get my baby out.  I remember all that I’ve learned in my life about bypass, and knew I was at a crossroads.  If I didn’t go directly to the place that scared me the most, I would have complications and have to go to the hospital.  I knew that going right into the fear would be the quickest way to get my baby.  So I shut down the old survival mechanism, bore down, and in three pushes had my precious baby.

The Lesson

Whenever we are birthing anything, we face death: death of who we were, death of old belief systems, death of old habits.  It’s never easy, but when we avoid the pain, we avoid the joy and bliss as well.  Embracing our shadow is about embracing life, vitality, joy and happiness.

I think that many of us suffer because of the habits we have that keep us from feeling our deepest discomforts.  Habits like drinking, drugs, over-eating, numbing out with TV, co-dependent relationships, etc.  Trying to avoid pain is at the root of all addiction.  Yet the addiction has all these terrible side effects.  Even the side effects seem to be more tolerable that the thing we’re avoiding; yet the more we avoid that monster all bound up in our closet, the bigger it becomes.  Or so we think.

What I’ve learned through decades of personal work and years of being a counselor is that the thing that we’re avoiding is usually not going to destroy us.  But our addictions might. Allowing ourselves to feel our sadness, grief, anger or rage can liberate us from the prison of avoidance.  When we’re no longer trying to avoid ourselves, then we are truly free!

*If you or someone you care about is pregnant, check out my new pre natal yoga DVD- Radiant Pregnancy.  Purchase here

*if you want some tools for working with unexpressed feelings please check out my Yoga for Stress Reduction DVD. Purchase here

Is Your Yoga Really Working?

Posted by Hala Khouri

You know your yoga practice is working when your life gets better, not when your yoga gets better.

You know who I’m talking about.

Maybe this was you; maybe this is you. The mala bead wearing, namaste talkin’, slightly arrogant, super neurotic, I-never-eat-meat-refined-flour-or-non-organic-food, type.

The person who looks down on anyone who doesn’t do yoga, isn’t vegan, has “negative energy” or has a corporate job.

I know this person because this person was me.

When I lived in New York City, I would pause when I walked by a McDonald’s and pray for the people inside. I prayed that they would find enlightenment and stop eating such low quality food made with tortured animals and additives.

Then I would walk off, feeling better than everyone and very satisfied with myself.

You see, yogis don’t overtly judge—we cover it up in spiritual guise.

 

I practiced yoga religiously, I was a vegetarian, I had mantras memorized, I’d been to India and could get both feet behind my head. Meanwhile, I was stuck in a codependent relationship, addicted to sugar and in a constant battle with a core belief that I wasn’t enough.

For me, yoga is a tool for self-awareness. When we are self-aware, we can cultivate compassion.

Compassion for ourselves is where it starts; if we don’t have that, we’re destined to idealize or demonize others. Yoga teaches me to remain grounded in the moments when I want to be reactive.

My yoga practice has forced me to face my inner critic and start to let go of my perfectionist (who believes that I only deserve love if I’m perfect). If I think that I need to be perfect to be worthy of happiness, then I will subconsciously be thrilled when I see others being imperfect (like the folks eating Mc-y- D’s, or someone doing an improper chatturanga), for this gives my flailing self-esteem a fleeting boost.

Back when I used yoga as a whip with which to beat myself, I was drawn to more punitive teachers who made me feel worthless and want to strive for their approval. I wanted to master the inner spiral, and the rooting of the big toe while doing perfect Ujayi breathing and staring at a drishti.

As I started to get wiser and see that perfectionism is a dead end road, I started making different choices. My practice turned into an opportunity to love and accept myself exactly as I was in that moment (that concept would have made me throw up in my mouth previously).

Today I know this: the purpose of discipline is to create more freedom. If your discipline just leads to more discipline, it ain’t workin’ baby! I knew my sugar addiction was cured, not when I stopped eating sugar, but when I could have one or two pieces of chocolate without inhaling the entire bar and then going for another one while drowning in my own shame.

If you are like I was, and you’re imprisoned by a quest to be the perfect yogi, ask yourself this question,”What am I afraid would happen if I let go a little? What am I trying so hard to control?”

I am not suggesting that discipline is bad; in fact, it’s necessary.

As a step towards freedom.

I don’t look back on my years of discipline and think I did the wrong thing; I just see now that I was mistaking the boat for the shore. I know my yoga is working because I’m happier. My relationships are healthy, I don’t have a voice in my head all the time telling me that I’m worthless.

I can’t get my feet behind my head anymore, I don’t do full splits or balance in handstand, and I have a slightly pudgy belly. And I’m happy! Not perfect—I have a lot more to learn and I’m okay with that.

Next time you’re on your mat, ask yourself this question, “Who am I being right now?”

Many years ago I was in a very packed, sweaty, vinyasa flow class filled with overachievers. At one point the teacher said to us, “So you can do all this fancy yoga, but does anyone want to hang out with you?”

Do they?