Smile More, Complain Less: The Art and Practice of Moga

“Smiling is very important. If we are not able to smile, then the world will not have peace.” –Thich Nhat Hanh, Being Peace

I’m reading a book about mindful mothering, Denise Roy’s Momfulness, and she discusses “Mouth Yoga,” which I’m cheerfully calling Moga these days. The concept comes from Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh, who uses the term Mouth Yoga for smiling. Roy mentions that the many muscles that create smiles need to be stretched and exercised if we want them to grow stronger. We’ve all heard, as well, how even the act of smiling—before we really feel the sentiment—can help lift our spirits and brighten our moods. Smiling releases endorphins and other feel-good chemicals, combating the stress hormones that often circulate in our bodies due to our contemporary lifestyles. Muscles in the face and body relax when we smile, helping us to soften into the moment instead of meeting it with rigidity.

Encouraging ourselves to smile more might seem like a simple goal, but in moments of stress, tension, despair, or hard work, smiling can feel like a monumental effort. In these times it can be difficult to soften into the acceptance of what is instead of feeling we need to meet it with toughness and efforts to control. Easier, perhaps, is trying to smile when we’re doing pleasant or even neutral tasks. Try to smile when you’re brushing your hair or dressing for the day. Try smiling when you’re driving (listening to something uplifting in the car can help here) or when you’re eating a meal. And certainly try to bring a soft smile to the face when practicing yoga or mediation. Yoga, as a discipline, can help create joy in our lives, and this process will be facilitated when we smile while practicing asana. Getting into the habit of softly smiling and looking pleasant, even when we’re doing something potentially strenuous, can do wonders for helping us soften into and smile through more difficult moments in daily life.

Give it a try. Start practicing Moga, and see how you feel.

Yes and No

Recently, I heard a quote that really resonated with me, and I’ll paraphrase it here: “If someone asks you to do something and your response isn’t immediately, ‘Hell, yeah!’ then it’s probably ‘No, thank you; not this time.’”

I know I’m not the only one to have overcommitted myself, whether out of a sense of duty or out of genuine interest and desire to contribute or be involved in something. We all bite off more than we can chew from time to time, though a challenging task for me has been to determine, beforehand, what is enough and when to say “enough is enough.” In filling our responsibility cup, we have to be wary of trying to hold more than we can handle; we don’t want that cup spilling over into an unmanageable and costly mess.

So lately I’ve been returning to the above quote each time I need to decide whether to invest my time in something new. We can rationalize in our heads the pros and cons of any decision until each choice looks right. We can let our hearts have a say and find ourselves feeling compassion, desire, even passion for whatever is seeking our time and energy. Most useful in these decisions, though, is our intuition, which is guided by the third chakra (between the eyebrows) but which is also rooted firmly in the “gut,” so to speak. That’s why our language is full of phrases that speak to the importance of this belly center as a seat of our intuition; we feel a “gut instinct,” and people might ask us, “What does your gut tell you?” In the chakra system, this navel center is the place where power, autonomy, will, energy, and fire reside.

That “Hell, yeah” resonates from the belly, beyond thinking and rationalization. Likewise, the “No, thank you; not this time” can be felt as a quietness in the belly, when that resounding affirmation isn’t there. So try this the next time you have a decision to make: quiet your mind’s judgments, feel your breath growing deep, and draw your awareness to your belly. Ask your question. Then feel the answer.

So What? Now What?

Last week we considered yoga’s aim, which is beyond mastering the body and more about mastering the mind. This aim is more easily reached when one practices with discipline; Patanjali says that one’s practice is firmly grounded when it is continued for a long time, without ceasing, and in all earnestness.

Basically, that means you have made a commitment to yourself to practice, with or without a class, a certain number of times per week and that you keep this going…for a long time, without ceasing. How many times per week? If you’d like to see changes in your body and life, then three times a week is the minimum. Ideally, five to six days a week of practice will develop. The other part of Patanjali’s equation is “in all earnestness,” meaning you’re practicing with sincerity and conviction. This practice is for you, for your own growth and transformation, so it requires your commitment, your honest intentions, and your self-discipline.

Then you’ve established a committed practice. But…so what? now what? (as my teacher likes to say). What comes from this commitment, this disciplined practice? Transformation. And the blossoming of yogic practice in the rest of your life. You might find yourself observing your emotions more, allowing yourself to act in the world rather than react. You might find that you are less judgmental of yourself and others, that you feel more compassion for your own choices and situations as well as those of others. You might find more clarity in decision making, since you’ve come to know your authentic self at a deeper level. You might find negative habits easily falling away.

Sounds good, yes?

But transformation isn’t an overnight phenomenon. You might also find some days that you just don’t feel like stepping on your mat. You might find days when you just don’t want to act as your highest self. Some days, you might feel frustration and impatience. You might react to a situation in anger or fear before you have a chance to understand your motivations for acting. You might revert to old negative habits—like eating too many sweets or watching to much t.v.—you thought were long gone since your yoga practice developed.

But so what? now what?

A disciplined practice and transformation doesn’t mean that you somehow become superhuman. On the contrary, you are able to recognize, understand, and have compassion for your full humanity as you strive to embody and enact more divine characteristics. A disciplined practice means you forgive yourself when you don’t live up to your own ideals. A disciplined practice means you step back on the mat. A disciplined practice means…more practice. And, as K. Pattabi Jois (founder of Ashtanga yoga) said, “With practice, all is coming.”

Beyond the Body

“Yogas citta vrtti nirodhah” – Yoga Sutras of Patanjali (Yoga is the cessation of the fluctuations of the mind.)

“Yoga is designed to revolutionize your life; anything less is just exercise.” – Uma

Many students come to yoga wanting to lose weight, develop strength and flexibility, even recover from physical ailment or injury. Once they experience that sense of bodily bliss and emotional calm that yoga can bring, they’re often “hooked” and become practitioners intent on mastering handstand or becoming flexible enough to put their feet behind their heads.

As challenging and fun as mastering advanced poses can be, such a practice is still only a gateway into true yoga, which is beyond the body and dedicated to mastering the mind. As Patanjali tells us, yoga is the cessation of the fluctuations of the mind. Yoga is a state of union with the Self and the Divine that can occur when we cease to identify with our bodies, our emotions, and our thoughts.

The physical postures, asanas, certainly do help us live more comfortably in our bodies. They help us stay strong, balanced, and flexible, which means that we can accomplish with more ease and comfort the daily tasks we ask our bodies to undertake. Beyond that, though, the physical postures help ready the body for long periods of time in seated meditation, where we turn our attention more deeply inward and become observers of the mind.

Even as we practice asana, then, the goal of a disciplined and dedicated yogi is to quiet the senses, turn inward, and become observers of bodily sensation, the depth of breath, the quality of the mind. Instead of anticipating the next pose—rushing through Chaturanga (low push-up) and straining into Upward Dog in an effort to reach the “rest” that Downward Dog can bring—can we slow down, fully inhabit the present moment? That might mean feeling the arms’ fatigue in challenging Chaturanga; that might mean attuning to the sensation of pushing the sternum upward and forward in Up-Dog, and feeling the stretch through the backs of the legs in Down-Dog. More importantly, that would mean slowing down the breath—maybe to 3 or 5-second inhalations and exhalations—and matching movement with breath. Most importantly, that would mean watching the quality of the mind—which can often be gauged through the depth and quality of the breath—throughout the practice: Oh, I’m feeling impatience that the instructor hasn’t called the next pose yet. Oh, I’m wishing I were as flexible/strong/advanced/etc. as the lithe girl next to me. Oh, my mind is off, reliving that argument I had with my friend, instead paying attention to what I’m doing here in yoga class.

Yes, we all have moments of mind-traveling off the mat during practice; the key is to become aware of when that happens and to calmly, with self-acceptance, bring awareness back to the here and now. Practicing this on the mat is a form of meditation, and meditation can revolutionize your life. Anything less is just exercise.