Sunday, April 12, 2009
Yoga Nidra is yoga where we find our True Self by exploring all of our complex layers in a way to see that who we are, fundamentally, is bigger than those simple layers. We call these layers Koshas.
Some of the Kosahs include a body layer, an energy layer, a mind layer, and so on. By exploring these layers through simple means of listening to a guided narrative, we can experience ourselves just as we are but against a backdrop of our own awareness--our consciousness. From the bigger place of our awareness, we see that those smaller parts of ourselves, like body or illness, emotions, thoughts, though still important, don't have to monopolize all of our energy and attention.
Through this process of Yoga Nidra, many of our problems (physical, emotional, etc) seem to sort themselves out because it's like they finally find their own role in the bigger scheme of who we are. Our problems often stop the narcissistic show of attention they've been asserting all this time.
Perhaps the best thing about Yoga Nidra is that it's for everybody, old young, beginners, pros. Everyone. Plus, all you have to do is lay there and listen to the facilitator talk. And pay attention. It's very relaxing. Many people say that after Yoga Nidra they feel like they've had a long nap.
Once, after a session of Yoga Nidra, I felt like I was as big as the whole universe and as small as the smallest particle at the same time. I felt like everything was okay and my old problems seemed important but relatively insignificant from this larger perspective. This largeness, this awareness seemed to be choosing to live in my body and it was my job to experience this awareness in the form that I had been given.
While still blised out, in my mind I felt curious about this body in which I was experiencing this awareness. I had an urge to pull over to the first fast-food restaurant I found and stuff myself with tasty but unhealthy food. Fortunately I was aware enough to realize that though my awareness may exceed my body, I was still attached to it and as my vehicle for this awareness, I'd better take care of it.
That same night, I went home, put on some jazz music, sat in my favorite chair and simply cried. Life seemed all so close and present to me. It felt like all that mattered was this moment.