Capítulo 4
Faith and Perspective: Seeing Beyond Limited Viewpoints
Faith differs fundamentally from belief. While belief represents a preconception about how reality should be, faith embodies a deeper willingness to experience reality as it is, including an acceptance of the unknown and uncertain. Patanjali, in his seminal work, emphasizes faith's critical importance to spiritual practice: "Wholeness is preceded by faith, energy, mindfulness, union, and awareness." This faith enables practitioners to commit to difficult practices amid increasingly busy and complex lives. It represents a sophisticated blend of self-trust, accumulated life experience, and an intuitive connection with the Divine that grows stronger through practice.
Faith possesses an inherent innocence and quiet certainty that makes it both alluring when witnessed in others and deeply comforting when experienced ourselves. Often described as "the quiet cousin of Courage," faith demonstrates the willingness to step forward without guarantees or assurances of success. We exercise faith in countless ways daily, from trusting that our house won't suddenly collapse to believing in the perpetual cycling of seasons. For serious yoga practitioners, Patanjali specifically suggests cultivating faith in three essential areas: the practices themselves, the teachers who guide us along the path, and most importantly, in our own capacity for growth and transformation.
Perspective complements faith by helping us see beyond our limited viewpoints and conditioned responses. Patanjali teaches "viveka-khyatir-aviplava hana-upayah"-the means of attaining cessation is unceasing vision of discernment. This profound teaching reveals two important truths: first, what we need to see is already present before us, if only we'd trust our hearts and intuitive wisdom; second, discrimination helps us better understand reality by maintaining proper perspective, especially during challenging times.
Enlightenment itself can be understood as a radical change in perspective rather than an acquisition of something new. When we cling rigidly to one viewpoint, we severely limit our ability to see clearly and respond wisely to life's circumstances. Paradoxically, our greatest challenges often serve as catalysts for broadening our perspective. True wisdom emerges from clarity of perspective-stepping back from immediate reactions allows us to distinguish what's truly important and naturally increases our capacity for compassion toward others and ourselves.
The classic Buddhist story of the monk and the empty rowboat perfectly illustrates how suffering links to rigid perspectives. In this tale, a monk becomes enraged when a boat crashes into his, only to discover the boat is empty and simply drifting with the current. This realization instantly dissolves his anger, teaching that many of life's seemingly personal affronts are simply "empty rowboats"-events without intentional malice. This wisdom helps us maintain equanimity in daily life, understanding that most situations that trigger us aren't personal attacks but rather neutral events we've assigned meaning to through our limited perspective.
Capítulo 5
Courage: The Heart of Transformation
Both love and courage reside within the heart-we tell frightened people to "take heart." After self-love and love for others, courage may be life's second most important quality to cultivate. True courage combines knowing what's possible for oneself with understanding our interdependence with the world. This interconnection means our acts of courage often inspire and affect others, creating ripples of transformation in our communities.
At Tassajara Zen Mountain Center, Lasater's five-year-old daughter jumped from a high rock after her brothers, explaining she had "a girl's courage"-"brave, but not foolish." This crucial distinction separates doing something requiring genuine courage from merely appearing brave through foolishness. The wisdom of a child demonstrated that true courage involves careful assessment of risk and capability, not blind bravado. In yoga classes, when challenged by a teacher, we must distinguish between caring for ourselves and overcoming resistance or fear by assessing what's possible, what's in our hearts, whether we trust the teacher, and if we need more help. This assessment requires honest self-reflection and the ability to listen to both our inner wisdom and physical limitations. Courage isn't forcing yourself into something for acceptance or to avoid embarrassment - it's about making conscious choices aligned with our authentic selves.
Understanding courage means recognizing it supports action despite fear, not the absence of fear. To develop courage, practice with a pose that feels somewhat frightening but physically possible. Start with manageable challenges - perhaps a supported headstand against the wall or attempting crow pose with blocks nearby. Throughout this process, notice when fear arises and when courage helps you continue. Pay attention to physical sensations, emotional responses, and thought patterns that emerge. Remember that courage means choosing what's possible despite fear, bringing a sense of freedom and empowerment to your practice.
We all experience some measure of fear daily, with bodily manifestations similar to those Arjuna describes in the Bhagavad Gita - trembling hands, racing heart, sweaty palms, and scattered thoughts. Fear exists primarily in relationship to the future-when actual danger is present, we often don't feel afraid but instead respond with focused action. Most fears are either short-lived jolts or deeper anxieties that may mask other life issues, such as fear of inadequacy, abandonment, or failure. Patanjali describes the most pervasive fear as the fear of death, present even in the wise. This fundamental fear often underlies many of our other fears and anxieties. While fear serves as a useful self-preservation mechanism, we can choose to observe our fears and continually bring awareness back to the present moment. This practice of mindful observation allows us to develop a healthier relationship with fear, neither suppressing it nor being controlled by it.
Regular yoga practice provides numerous opportunities to cultivate courage - whether trying new poses, attending different classes, or simply showing up on difficult days. Each time we step onto our mat, we practice this delicate balance of courage and wisdom, pushing our boundaries while honoring our limitations. Through this consistent practice, we develop not just physical strength but also emotional resilience and spiritual fortitude.
Capítulo 6
The Dance of Relationship: Compassion, Patience, and Connection
While yoga traditionally appears solitary, its transformative potential truly emerges off the mat-especially in intimate relationships where anger, attachments, and fears can't easily hide. Patanjali rarely discusses relationships directly in the Yoga Sutra, but mentions them through the yamas (restraints) and by advising "friendliness, compassion, gladness, and equanimity" toward all beings regardless of their condition.
Compassion, from Latin meaning "to suffer with," should be expressed universally according to Patanjali, who promises it will purify us. Like an apple that exists through countless interdependent conditions, compassion develops through our willingness, wisdom gained from experience, and understanding of suffering. True compassion begins with acknowledging our own suffering-something Lasater initially resisted in her first Buddhism class when confronted with Buddha's First Noble Truth. Only by recognizing her deep attachment to a "perfect" life did she gain wisdom and compassion toward herself.
As a parent, compassion means seeing situations from her children's perspectives without abandoning guidance. Whether mediating sandbox disputes or using a stolen ball as a teaching moment about feelings, compassion creates opportunities for growth. Similarly, as a yoga teacher, she must compassionately challenge students while respecting their boundaries, knowing that "good things are sometimes difficult, but not all difficult things are good." When we act from compassion's heart, we intuitively know what to do.
Patience isn't explicitly mentioned in the Yoga Sutra, but concepts like adhyatma-prasada (clarity of inner being) and upeksha (equanimity) capture its essence. When we experience perfect presence, we feel content with whatever is happening. Lasater's journey with impatience revealed that it stems from fear-specifically, the fear that she's wasting time and not accomplishing enough to be valued and loved. By paying attention to the bodily sensations of impatience and the thoughts beneath them, she discovered that patience isn't something to achieve but rather a return to the natural flow of life. True patience comes from choosing to be present in each moment rather than rushing through it.
Capítulo 7
Working with Life's Challenges: Attachment, Aversion, and Suffering
Patanjali defines attachment (raga) as clinging to pleasant experiences and aversion (dvesha) as rejecting sorrowful ones. Though seemingly opposites, they're actually the same-both create relationships that limit freedom. All day we react to things going right or wrong, constantly pulled between getting what we want and avoiding what we don't. Whether overeating or anorexia, love or hate, we become controlled by these reactions. Having preferences is natural, but attachment or aversion creates suffering when we don't get our preference, interfering with experiencing things as they are. Learning to recognize these patterns allows us to heal and live more fully in the present moment.
Our brains are wired to avoid pain and maximize pleasure, which greatly influences our behavior. However, there's a crucial difference between pain and suffering. Pain-physical, emotional, and mental-is inevitable in life. Suffering is the personalization we bring to difficulties through blame or self-pity. Patanjali teaches that "That which is to be overcome is sorrow yet to come," showing we can choose whether to suffer. We suffer because we identify with pain, reinforcing beliefs that we have no choice. The paradox is that no one can make us suffer without our participation. Our suffering doesn't come from nowhere-its roots may be dormant in our unconscious until triggered. Yoga practice invites the unconscious to surface so it can be integrated into awareness.
According to Buddha, impermanence is the very nature of reality. Everything exists in flux. Patanjali echoes this wisdom, defining avidya (nescience) partly as mistaking the non-eternal for eternal. When we expect ourselves or loved ones to remain unchanged, we misunderstand impermanence. Nature teaches this through changing seasons, geological transformations, and quantum physics showing matter's ephemeral nature. Even our bodies demonstrate impermanence with each unique breath. Nothing is truly permanent except impermanence itself. Buddha's Five Remembrances remind us we will age, experience illness, die, be separated from loved ones, and that our actions are our only true belongings. Accepting impermanence takes courage but opens us to new possibilities and helps us cherish life's sweet moments.
Capítulo 8
Living Yoga in the World: Service, Truth, and Nonviolence
Service, or "karma yoga," engages our deep connection with others and with life itself. The Bhagavad Gita teaches us to "perform unattached the deed to be done. For the man who performs action without attachment obtains the Supreme." Choice is the heart of service. While small, unsung daily actions are important-picking up glass from a sidewalk, carrying away trash on a trail, giving up a seat on a bus-deeper service requires significant interaction with others and the energy to honor those relationships.
When we feel resentful at being called to serve while already overwhelmed, we must find balance between serving others and honoring our own needs. True service acknowledges the complexity of our motivations. We can serve by determining what's possible for us in the moment, assessing our health, energy level, and abilities. We can say no if that's more truthful than a resentful yes, and notice when we're helping to gain power, recognition, or love. When we serve ourselves appropriately, we make it possible to genuinely serve others, acknowledging our interdependence with all of life.
In the Yoga Sutra, Patanjali lists satya, or "truth," as one of the most important practices. He writes that "When grounded in truthfulness, action and its fruition depend on him." Truth exists on three levels: basic honest communication, integrity (internal honesty when no one is watching), and becoming the truth of the Universe itself. We often lie to avoid confrontation, but this creates separation and misery. Truthfulness must be practiced with ahimsa (non-harming)-asking "Is it necessary? Is it true? Is it non-harming?" before speaking. Living truthfully includes small everyday decisions, from reporting all income to declining radar detectors, modeling integrity in all aspects of life.
Nonviolence (ahimsa) is the first of Patanjali's five yamas or "restraints" for yoga students. True nonviolence begins with our thoughts, not just our actions. When we pay meticulous attention to angry or violent thoughts, we can disidentify from them-recognizing them as merely neurological events, not who we are. The root thought "I am special" often generates harmful attitudes by separating us from others and turning them into objects. When we recognize everyone's importance, we naturally practice ahimsa. Patanjali promises that when we're grounded in nonviolence, "all enmity is abandoned in our presence"-a powerful gift to the world.
Capítulo 9
Redefining Success: The Power of Love and Contentment
Our culture obsesses over success, typically measuring it through achievement or wealth. This creates an all-or-nothing mentality where even extraordinary accomplishments like Olympic silver medals can feel like failure. The yoga tradition offers a different perspective in the Bhagavad Gita: "For those who are completely attached to enjoyment and power, with the mind carried away by it-their wisdom faculty, which is of the essence of will, is not settled in samadhi."
True success lies in living with an open, loving heart that connects with the Divine in ourselves and others. Success can be found in choosing truth over lies, love over hate, and helping others. We must find balance-neither believing worldly success will solve our spiritual emptiness nor ignoring the material gifts we've been given.
Greed presents itself as longing for both material and non-material things, especially wanting more than needed. Yet whatever we stockpile-diamonds, houses, fame, money, yoga proficiency-we face two certainties: all will eventually be lost, and these things will never satisfy our cravings born of fear and emptiness. When we temporarily lose our way, we become convinced that acquiring things will make us acceptable to ourselves and others, forgetting we are already whole.
The path to contentment requires accepting and having gratitude for all that is given-from breakfast to oceans, from yoga poses we can do to those we cannot, from pleasant experiences to painful ones. Patanjali counsels "aparigraha" or greedlessness in the Yoga Sutra, noting that "through contentment unexcelled joy is gained." True contentment asks only that we fully live in the experience of the moment, lessening fear and enabling us to share our most important gift: our love and wholeness.
Love may be the most important thing in our lives, yet it's also the most variously defined. From teenage infatuation to enduring partnership, what we call "love" spans an enormous range of experiences. Yet there is no such thing as wasted love-any love we experience has transformative power. True love isn't about what we get but what we give. As Krishna explains in the Bhagavad Gita, when we love without expectation and remain "the same in success and failure," we experience freedom from the attraction of opposites. Much of what we call love is actually need, fear, or desire for power. Real love leads us to intimacy with what's enduring in ourselves and others.
While opening ourselves to love makes us vulnerable, this vulnerability is the doorway to ultimate freedom. Even brief connections can transform us if we approach them with genuine love rather than expectation. In the end, living our yoga means recognizing that each moment offers an opportunity to practice love, awareness, and connection-not just on the mat, but in the beautiful, messy reality of everyday life.
