Author: Mandala

“I stood before God, the Source of All That Is naked and vulnerable like a child knowing perhaps for the first time who I really AM.”

This thought drifted through my mind as I waited at the international airport in New Delhi for my return flight to San Francisco.

I smiled as I reflected on how this event came to be.

---

I met Swami Veda Bharati for the first time at Walt Baptiste’s memorial in August 2003 at his daughter’s, Sherri Baptiste, house. We talked for a total of one minute.

Shortly thereafter I met him again at a lecture in Marin County. At the end of his lecture I told him I felt stuck and if he was willing to help out I was willing to listen.  I was hoping he would be able to meet with me privately before I returned to Modesto later that afternoon.

He shut his eyes for a minute. Opened them up and said, “O.K., give my assistant your email address and get mine. We’ll talk later.” That took about thirty seconds of conversation.

Two months later after a couple of brief emails back and forth I received an email from him inviting me for a forty-day silent retreat to his Ashram in Rishikesh, India.

I silently clamored, “Forty days of silence!  No way. He’s got the wrong guy! He made a mistake.”

Surely, he must have entered the wrong email address. I wasn’t even familiar with his background, nor the Himalayan Yoga Tradition as it was passed down from Bengali Baba to Swami Rama to him. “Besides, he doesn’t even know who I am.” I mumbled aloud.

I shuttered to think what my students would say if I wasn’t able to remain silent for forty days.  My poor ego was already suffering before I even made my decision to go.

Over the next two weeks I meditated on his invitation and to my utter surprise the message stayed the same.  That inner voice kept repeating, “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.”

I trusted it and emailed back and said, “I accept.” His response was simple and to the point, “Good. Get the details of what you need to bring and any travel arrangements you need from my assistant, Silvia.”

Even though in my twenty-seven plus years of doing Yoga I had never done a silent retreat I knew in my heart of hearts that I was ready for my next step in my spiritual growth and that this was it.

My next challenge: What to do with my business, the Yoga Health Institute? Who would teach while I was away? How would I keep the doors open? My friend and close business associate, Lucy, said, “Don’t worry. You started a business from scratch. You can start a new one if it totally fails while you’re gone. Let your students run the center. Trust, Richard,” she said. She beamed from ear to ear as she spoke.

So I made the necessary arrangements with key students who were involved in a five-year Yoga apprenticeship program with me.

Everything was arranged. All the pieces were put into place. I was ready to go or so I thought.

Getting there was like a Charlie Chaplin Hollywood movie. The day I was supposed to leave I missed my flight.

---

I smiled as I sipped a Chai tea at an outdoor café, Café Deva, in Modesto as I looked over my ticket thinking that my flight left at 12:15 noon. I looked at my sterling silver Citizens watch. It said 6:00 AM. I had plenty of time to get to San Francisco International. Then I began to stare at the time on my ticket. It was written 12:15. I thought, “Is it 12:15 PM, or 12:15 AM?”

I called Kim at the travel agency and she informed me my flight left seven hours ago at 00:15 AM.

I spoke hurriedly to her, “Book a new flight.  Just get me there on time.” She tried to book another flight that would get me there in time for when the retreat started but to no avail.

“Cancel everything. My insurance will cover all the moneys already spent,” I said feeling, ironically, a bit of relief, thinking to myself, “Well I dodged that bullet.”

Somewhat relieved and disappointed at the same time I went back to the Yoga Health Institute, sat down at the computer and began contemplating how to tell Swami Veda I wasn’t coming.

I was in the process of creating my email to India when my business associate looked over my shoulder and read my email to Swami Veda. She exclaimed, “Don’t send that! Just take a forty-day vacation and arrive whenever you can. Go make new arrangements and enjoy yourself. So you don’t do forty days of silence. Relax. Enjoy India. Travel around using the Ashram in Rishikesh as your base camp.”

I hesitated, then thought, “Why not, I need a vacation.”

I called the travel agency once again and as I started to speak, Kim, said, “Oh, by the way I was able to get you on another flight tomorrow and was just about to call you. It’s only a hundred dollars more. You’ll arrive two days late but in time to start your retreat.” With a great big smile on my face, “Book it,” I said.

---

Upon arriving in New Delhi I was treated like a king.  I was chauffeured to the hotel. I stayed at the Radisson, a five-star hotel, located by the international airport. I highly suggest staying in five-star hotels in India. You deserve it. It’s an experience well worth having while you are in India.

The Ashram sent a taxi to pick me up and take me to Rishikesh, a six-hour trip. They failed to tell me what traffic was like on the highway let alone anything about how they drove in India.

I was about to be introduced to “demolition derby” Indian style. The next day my trip to Rishikesh from New Delhi was a ride to hell and back. I was a passenger with a kamikaze pilot in blood alley. He did his best to run off the road oncoming cars, bicycles, bullock carts and motorbikes. He left his best for the buses. He challenged oncoming buses like he was Attila the Hun. I thought, “If I get to Rishikesh in one piece it will be beyond a miracle.” With that I relaxed into what might be my last breath.

After my arrival and a day of recuperation Swami Veda called for me. He gave me two private mantras with which to begin the forty-day silent retreat. The first mantra I was to use in six different one-hour meditations in the forty days. The second mantra I was to chant in the other two hours of meditation. And whenever my eyes were open, and when I wasn’t in a formal meditation I was to chant the second mantra, making it my faithful companion.

His instructions were simple: “Meditate six hours a day or longer if you can. Do Yoga postures as needed to help you to meditate. Do them alone and not with the other students. I want you to go to sleep with your mantra on your lips and wake up with your mantra on your lips.”

Next he instructed me in some tools from yoga psychology and how to deal with the emotions that I would encounter during the next forty days. He gave instructions on how to ask questions and process the emotions.  I remember his quaint unassuming smile as he spoke about handling emotions.

Little did I realize how important and profound these instructions on how to process emotions were going to help me, let alone play a critical role in my having a major impact on my spiritual growth?

His instructions for next forty days were clear, he said, “No company. No cassette recorders. No yoga classes. No music. No cell phone messages or calls. No T.V. No reading of books and no newspapers. No lectures unless I personally invite you. No journaling unless you have a spiritual breakthrough. Walk in silence. Eat in silence. Stay in silence. Once a day meditate with the other eight people who are doing the silent retreat with you. If you have a medical emergency, write it down and give it to a staff member. Have as little of contact with Ashram members as possible except during dinning hours and then pick a quiet corner and don’t gaze at anyone.”

“Ouch! Is that all?” I stammered silently.

So, every day, during meal time I wore my Ray Ban sunglasses in order to avoid all eye contact with others.

“If you feel you have something that is urgent and you need my help then give a note to one of my staff. Otherwise, you’re on your own,” he said in a calm, firm, authoritative voice.

“What the hell did I get myself into?” I mumbled to myself. I’m ten thousand miles from home. I’ve never done a silent retreat of any kind, ever! I knew nothing substantive about the Himalayan Yoga tradition. I’d only known Swami Veda for less than five minutes before arriving at the Ashram in India. Was I insane? “Of course!” my ego shrieked.

The night air was cool against my skin as I left Swami Veda’s cottage after being initiated into the sacred mantras from the Himalayan Yoga tradition. This signaled the start of my forty-day silent retreat. I felt a sudden surge of joy explode in my spine. A smile crossed my face and my sanity returned, momentarily.

I knew I was in the right place at the right time with the right people for the next step in my spiritual growth through yoga.

Eight other brave souls and I set out on a journey that only God knew what was going to happen.

---

What was forty days of silence like?

The first day was refreshing. I felt as though I was lying in a hammock on a warm afternoon day being rocked back and forth, feeling less stress and more relaxation as my mantras lured me into a false sense of security.

On the second day my world started to crash.  On day ten my world collapsed.  Then day thirty-six arrived and suddenly a new Richard emerged.

The second day they gave me a roommate, a short, stocky, overweight fellow with a heavy New York accent, who spoke incessantly. I silently nicknamed him, “Motor mouth.”

He followed me around saying, “I know you’re on a silent retreat, so I’ll do the talking. You just nod your head.” I shook my head and wrote him a note, “Don’t talk to me. I won’t respond by writing or in any other way.”

For two days he followed me around talking to me while I ignored him. Even when I was meditating he would walk in my room and say aloud, “Just checking to see if you were meditating.” I felt his loneliness, his despair.

Yet, whenever he was around I could feel my frustration growing.

He served his purpose as his rudeness and interruptions brought forth my hidden anger that I thought I had processed years ago.

So there it was once again, this anger that disguised itself as irritability. It was not as intense as it used to be, but there it was like old wounded mountain lion waiting to pounce if I rubbed the wound the wrong way.

After a few days they gave me my own bungalow. What a relief to be alone.

I quickly established my new routine.

• 5:30 – 6:00 Awake – toiletries
• 6:00 – 6:30 Yoga postures
• 6:30 – 7:30 Meditate
• 8:00 – 8:30 Breakfast
• 8:30 – 9:00 Brisk walk
• 9:00 – 10:00 Meditate
• 10:30 – 11:00 Contemplative meditation walk
• 11:15 – 12:15 Meditate
• 12:15 – 1:00 Contemplative meditation walk
• 1:00 – 1:30 Dinner
• 2:15 – 3:15 Meditate
• 4:15 – 5:15 Meditate
• 5:20 – 6:00 Contemplative meditation walk
• 6:00 – 7:00 dinner
• 7:30 – 8:30 Meditate
• 9:00 – 10:00 Contemplative meditation walk
• 10:30 – Bed

I posted this on my door with a note:  Do not disturb!

The six hours of meditation challenged me as I had some old nagging injuries in my hip, low back and neck that begged for my attention every time I meditated.

On day thirteen, surprisingly without provocation my anger erupted once again. This time it came as a deep rage coupled with the realization that this rage was in all men and it was part of man’s dark side. No one was immune! You either controlled it or it controlled you.

It took three days to process this rage. As the rage subsided I was informed by Swami Veda’s student, Randall Krause, that he wanted me to go higher into the Himalayas to a sacred shrine. I would be there for three days with five other people. The shrine was six hours from the Ashram. I braced myself for another journey with a kamikaze taxi driver.

It was here deep in the Himalayas while in a meditation at the holy shrine that I understood at deeper levels of my being what Walt Baptiste meant when he told me, “Yoga is a Silent Mind. And the journey is mastery of the mind, body and emotions. All it takes is practice, practice, practice!”

How many times in my twenty-seven years of teaching yoga had I said that thinking I knew what I was saying, when in fact I was parroting what I had been taught without knowing in my guts what it really meant. Now I knew.  I felt elated in this realization.

Walt would always remind me, “You didn’t wake up one morning and say I think it’s a good day to be a Yogi. Yoga called you and I don’t mean the postures! You didn’t call Yoga. This is your path to God in this lifetime. Pay attention.” If you knew Walt Baptiste you would know he was a man of few words and always spoke directly and to the point.

While hiking up and down the mountain to meditate in the holy shrine I aggravated my injured hip. From my injury I learned a profound truth about the yoga postures as my injury forced me to move like a snail when I practiced postures. It forced me to pause between each movement, to breathe consciously-slowly from the diaphragm, to relax all body parts, to feel the pain and relax into the injury. I felt life force energy pulsate in my body as it caressed my injury.

I knew for the first time what Swami Veda meant when he talked about the Yoga postures and he would say, “Stirtha Sukham,” (steady and comfortable, Yoga Sutra 2.46).

I experienced the energy behind the postures moving in the nadis (Chinese medicine they are called meridians) and through the marma points (acupuncture points). My injury became my teacher.

On day seventeen in the Himalayas all hell broke loose.

I was sitting in the holy shrine meditating in pitch-black darkness when fear exploded in me like a volcano erupting fear from the deepest parts of my mind.

From a deep meditative state my mind was abruptly jolted out of its tranquility. It focused on the sounds behind me. I turned and looked and swore I could see two beady eyes eyeballing me. My mind raced wildly for an explanation. In my fear and panic I thought a Bengali tiger was eyeing me for its midnight snack. My heart leaped into my throat. I jumped up and stormed off to my quarters never looking back to see what was behind me. As I bolted I swore I could hear something following me, thump, thump, thump the sound went like a paw hitting the dirt.

I felt fear from the bottom of my toes to the top of head. My hair stood on end. No matter what yoga breath, yoga posture, psychological technique or mantra I tried my terror would not quiet down. Fear stalked me like an African lioness getting ready for the kill. “Welcome to hell,” I thought.

For the next eighteen days fear, anger, rage, jealousy, darkness, confusion and frustration hounded me relentlessly like a wild hyena.

All of sudden my silent retreat turned to terror. I was being cooked, broiled, turned inside out, upside down hour after hour with no let up.

I was being pounded like the old blacksmith would pound those horseshoes in the old western movies. He would just beat the hell out those horseshoes. And if the horseshoes didn’t look right he reheated them and beat them some more.

I was being forged like hot steel in a steel foundry where they melted it, bent it, reheated it and bent it some more till they got it just right.

I would melt under the intensity of the emotions that played havoc with my consciousness. Then I’d cool down and in a blink of an eye I’d be reheated and melted down.

Cooked, broiled and pounded that was my daily lot in life.

And when I reached that threshold where I felt that I can’t take it anymore, I’d hear Swami Veda’s voice in my ear repeating my sacred mantra to me over and over until I came back to my senses and got back on track. My strength would come back. A smile would cross my face and I’d think, “I can do this, I can.” And once again I’d start my practice with that same enthusiasm I had right after initiation.

Then when I convinced myself it was over the process began again to my utter disbelief. It took all my strength, mental, emotional and physical to deal with these emotions that had masqueraded as a variety of physical ailments which I had often complained about.

Emotions that hid for an entire lifetime in my bones, muscles and spine ravaged my consciousness to the point where I was nauseated and felt like puking.

---

And like magic day thirty-six arrived and the wave of terror was lifted and I entered into a beautiful serene cave somewhere deep within.

Something shifted in me and I knew it. Over the next four days Swami Veda invited me to attend nightly Satsang (Gathering together for truth) and lectures on Himalayan Yoga Meditation practices and the hidden meaning and subtleties of the Hatha Yoga postures.

As quick as the silent retreat started it ended. I felt a great loss when the forty days ended. I cherished my silence. It was my new friend. I knew I could easily have done another forty days.

My words came forth slowly as people started asking me questions about my experience.

When I did speak I spoke in whispers to people who wanted to know what happened.

What was it like they asked? What did you learn they prodded? Do you think I should do it they wanted to know? Was it worth it they would query?

I answered people with a smile on my face in a quiet, raspy voice, “I had a shift in my spiritual growth. I found parts of me that I had denied all my life.”

Then grinning from ear to ear I’d whisper, “The goal of Yoga as defined by Patañjali in Yoga Sutra 1.2 “Yoga citta-vritti-nrodhah” (Yoga is the control of the mind-field) and Yoga Sutra 1.3, tada drastuh svarupe vasthanam (Then the impartial witness abides in its own nature) was revealed to me.

In other words, I explained that my experience taught me that Yoga is calming the waves of the mind and restoring awareness to Wholeness and each yoga posture is a meditation of the mind beyond the body and duality.

The subtleties of the yoga postures came to life and I was shown the hidden meaning of Patañjali’s Yoga Sutra 2.46 “Stirtha Sukhamasanam” (Steady and comfortable) and Yoga Sutra 2.33 “Vitarka badhance pratipaksha bhavanam (When disturbed by negative thoughts, opposite ones should be thought of) came into my consciousness as something I needed to work on.

Then as tears filled my eyes and I could taste the salt on my lips, I humbly said, “I faced myself, as I really am, not how I pretend myself to be. I could see myself for the first time as others saw me. I could hear others talk saying nothing, reminding me of myself often talking and saying nothing.” I continued with authority, “I discovered that God is undefinable by the mind as my experiences have shown me that God is beyond books, words, thoughts, mind, intellect and ego, and the finite mind cannot adequately describe this Infinite experience.”

I said in a soft, firm tone of my new found respect for myself and for Yoga, “I learned patience, perseverance and to trust in the process of Yoga and where it was taking me in this lifetime.”

I added, staring directly into their eyes as though I was able to see into their soul, “Yoga, if you cannot apply it in the real world of everyday life and make spiritual progress in making yourself a better person by mastering your emotions, building your character and in treating others better, then whatever kind of Yoga you are doing is not Yoga, but a shoddy substitute that is superficial.”

The bottom line, I declared with certainty, “I experienced who and what I AM. That’s what I really learned in 40-days of silence.”

---

My whole body smiled as the plane landed at San Francisco international. As I sat quietly in my seat watching people scramble to be the first off the plane I heard Swami Veda’s voice whisper in my right ear, “This is only the beginning.”

---

Editor’s Note:

Richard Parenti is initiated into the Himalayan Yoga Tradition by Swami Veda and has studied with such notables as Swami Brahmananda Sarasvati, Abraham-Hicks and Walt Baptiste. He is a registered Yoga Alliance teacher ERYT 500 and guest lecturer for graduate students at California State University on the subject of Emotional Mastery (Chitta Prasadanam). Richard is certified by the MS Society of Northern California to train yoga teachers how to teach yoga to people with multiple sclerosis. He is the author of Emotional Sobriety: Feel-Good Secrets for Everyone, Balboa Press 2013. After returning from a 40-day silent retreat in the Himalayan Mountains in India he authored ‘Cancer, No Easy Choices,” “Naked Before God,” “Who Am I,” and “Your True Self” all which appeared in Himalayan Path Magazine. Since 2000 he has been the spiritual director of the Yoga Health Institute in Modesto, California.

Richard Parenti holds the copyright for this article.

Lea:

Ever since I first came to SRSG to join my husband, loving efforts have been made by the ashram community to make me feel welcome and at home.

And indeed, every time we return to this beautiful place, it feels a little bit more like home. And despite little difficulties like the issue with the banknotes or running out of gas for our daily cooking, I really enjoy being here more and more.

Over the past one and a half years the beginnings of dear friendships have been formed and I got to know life in an ashram, in a small community, which is a new and enriching experience for me.

During the past eleven months we’ve spent at SRSG I’ve helped to take care of our visiting guests.

Throughout the whole year many individual guests and groups came from all over the world and all throughout India.

It was a blessing and a great experience for me to meet and connect with so many different people from so many different places. Among my duties was it to give them a first orientation to the ashram, to show them around the premises and to give special attention to those who needed it.

Towards the end of their stay I always tried to catch up with them to have a final meeting in order to connect them with teachers and centres in their respective hometowns and countries. These farewell meetings were a nice opportunity to reconnect with the guest and to get their feedback about their stay, which was almost always very positive and many of them wished to return.

Having all these newly connected aspirants, full of enthusiasm and sincerity around, as well as many of the dedicated and experienced figures serving Swamiji’s mission felt very special and inspiring to me. During times like these, one feels the vibrancy of the tradition that is living through the seva and sadhana of so many people.

Moments like these are a helpful reminder, as there are times when one gets so busy with day to day duties that it is easy to forget, momentarily, what a beautiful, precious and inspiring life we have here.

John:

Having lived in SRSG for most of the time over the last six years, and having passed through many roles, from guest to Gurulukam student, to volunteer, teacher and assistant, coming back to the ashram after spending some time away has felt more like coming home with each occasion. In this way, transitioning into married life, and bringing this relationship into the spiritual home of the ashram was another beautiful step in this flow of growth.

Our first year together in SRSG (2015 through 2016) allowed each one of us time to naturally discover our place within the community and within the mission. As we passed through days and months of refining personal sadhana as well as refining and defining the ways in which we can each best serve the mission of Swami Veda, it became a journey also of discovering the beautiful qualities of the other. As time went on, I found myself more and more admiring the skilful ways in which her natural qualities flowed and added, at many times and in many places where my own qualities were lacking.

After twelve intense, occasionally turbulent, mostly beautiful months, we departed together for a time, to reconnect with family and share some of our joyful experiences with loved ones in other countries.

Then, when we arrived back in November of 2016 it seemed quite natural that this returning felt more than ever like coming home.

Living in Swami Veda’s beautiful ashram is a truly unique experience.  At times, challenges and obstacles are met that seem insurmountable, if only because they are so often our own obstacles, which we find so exquisitely difficult to overcome.  Yet remaining steadfast in our determination to go on, despite these seeming failures, Love descends.  And those same internal challenges which seemed so daunting are met with laughter and tears of gratitude.

To share this life with a loving and supporting wife is something I am grateful for each and every day.

The Seed for Motherhood
Some years ago I was seated in front of the Ganga river when I realized that in my life I had raised many defensive walls to protect myself against what I believed responsible of my suffering, Loving too much. I now smiled at that belief, but anyway that very day I wrote down in my travel note book that I realized I did not know how to give. I also did not know how to receive.

There started the dilemma: is it because I do not know how to give that I do not know how to receive or is it rather the opposite? And then, where should I start from and how could I learn to give and receive? And what to learn first?

I was raised with some examples in my family that the most noble actions that a human being could do towards others is to help those in need. I had heard many times the story of my grandmother working at the hospital and preparing food for patients with tuberculosis and bringing it to them even if she was not allowed, with no fear of being infected. I also remember when I was eight years old she brought me to her village where she met many people, all of them inviting us to stay for lunch. She accepted only the invitation of a very poor woman whose house was nothing but only one small room and the little courtyard, who offered a simple piece of bread and cheese. And they were laughing remembering old stories.

I developed a sense of compassion that lead me to do voluntary service since I was fourteen, offering food to the disadvantages people of my town. Every Saturday, after school I used to run to the place to help with the preparation of meals, serving and cleaning. I used to share the meal with the people and enjoy their way to relate as a family. From there I always felt the need to do something helpful for others, until it became a job, which slowly did not give me the same feeling of being helpful to others. I got lost in the search of a satisfactory definition of poor people, the people I was trying to help. I understood that poor are not those who do not have access even to basic needs, but those who are not capable to share, to love regardless of the things they possess. In that sense I was also poor. I decided to take a break from my job.

And that is when I was in front of the Ganga writing about my thoughts. I did not know how to give anymore. Somehow my job had created expectations for the fruit of my actions. I knew that love does not require and need any condition, but how this could be experienced was not known well to me. The love that I used to call in that way was very often accompanied by sorrows and delusions. And the worst thing was that I used to consider them as signals of true love. I thought that love was not real love if not felt as a bit painful. Later I understood that that was only a false idea to which my restricted mind was attached.

From there then I started my search of how to learn to love unconditionally. I guess there are many ways to learn and many things to do to learn. In my situation it was during a full moon meditation that while my mind was resting at the belly area I had the feeling of a little girl in my womb, carrying a message “Ahimsa” (non-violence). I thought of it for some months until I got the meaning. I had to commit myself in the experience of motherhood as a way to start in the search of the experiential meaning of true and unconditional love.

Few months later I heard my doctor saying that I had a cyst of endometriosis that could prevent pregnancy unless treated. Paradoxically it could have been also treated by the pregnancy itself, if only I could get pregnant. The way was a hormonal treatment either if I had to try the pregnancy or simply treat the cyst in order to reduce it and keep it under control. My partner said he was not ready for this experience. I found myself in sorrow again, because only then I understood that the seed for motherhood was already sown. I had not many choices about the way to treat the cyst. I started the hormonal treatment but I also started to love the cyst. I considered her a good friend of mine who was there only to teach me something, to open my eyes on something I was not able to see at that moment. I used to talk to her and give massage in the evening time. I invited her to stay until she would decide her mission was completed. I learnt how to surrender. And then I received the first key for loving unconditionally. I already loved her unconditionally.

I felt this situation was ironic. I was taking care of something that was preventing me realizing a desire. In this attitude I felt myself maturing, growing, able to feel compassion again. I had no expectations. If I were not to become mother I would have explored another way to truly love. I can never forget the day the presence of my new friend cyst finally opened my eyes. Whether she was still physically there or not I was cured. Few months later I went to see the doctor who said that the cyst was few millimetres smaller. I decided to stop with the treatment without informing him. That same day I also heard my partner saying that if I still wanted we could try to have a baby. Two weeks later, exactly nine months after the full moon meditation I was expecting a little girl, Luce (that means Light in Italian language).

Mental and Emotional Preparation
According to my experience I would confirm what I heard and read from the masters of the Himalayan tradition that preparation for parenting requires not just the nine months of pregnancy, but it starts before. It starts from the moment the seed for parenting is sown in the mind of the parents who should understand and learn the responsibility of being parents.

During the time I was hosting my friend cyst I used to pray after meditation: “Please Gurudev, make me an instrument of your love, compassion and peace. If you think that motherhood could help me in this path I will take this responsibility to serve you. If it is not with this purpose, then please do not allow me to become a mother. Indicate to me another way”.  With that practice I was trying to conceive the baby in the mind first, a baby who could help me in learning unconditional love.

The gift arrived after nine months from the full moon meditation, a time where my mind really made a sincere effort to create a good environment for the seed maturing of coming to life. I am of the idea that mental preparation is necessary to establish the link with the child-to be, a link that should be strengthen after the birth for the baby to feel the connection with this new life. My mind was clear and serene before physically conceiving the baby because I was able to surrender to Mother Divine, the Life herself, and never in my life have I been so before.  The first environment I prepared was the one within, the one which indicated the motivation for motherhood. And then my body changed, because the body is the second recipient of the child, after the mind.

During my first pregnancy – and when I say that I mean the first nine months where I prepared the environment within to welcome the idea of a baby – what I did was a very simple thing, surrendering. Surrendering is allowing silence to arise. Emotions here find a place where to be at rest. They calm down allowing the mind to enjoy silence. In silence the mother-to be can find herself. There was that huge need for me to stay in touch with my deeper nature. I needed very much to listen and respect myself. Naturally my sadhana got intensified though I was very busy with my new job and the new country where I was working. The practice became constant and regular, and I was happy I was being able to work for caring of that spiritual poorness which I understood to have at that time I first left the job. In surrendering I was doing nothing, just letting things to happen.

I heard of many women who had difficulty having a child, but when they were able to let go of the attachment to the idea of having a baby, they got pregnant. Others fought very much to have a baby, and in some cases this fight was so hard to the extent that the environment to welcome the baby became hostile. It is very important to learn how to channel emotions and thoughts, and this is equally vital in preparation for motherhood. Because we are responsible for the preparation of the mental and emotional environment to welcome a new life. Then there is an Infinite force which will magnetize or not to it. But for sure there is no magnet which will attract to something that is not suitable.

Mental and emotional preparation does not end with the beginning of pregnancy. Actually it is very important to continue throughout the whole period. Many changes occur at different levels, of which the most noticeable one is on the physical plane. Hormones play their role as well and the mother-to be can be very sensitive to these changes. That is why it is fundamental to prepare the mind and make it concentrated as much as possible. I found this preparation interesting. Meditation changed. My mind was always in the belly, no matter the effort to go back to other energetic points or to the vibration of the mantra. A diverting force was taking over it. In seated meditation I was only able to enjoy the stillness of the baby who was usually very active at other times. In the pre-partum course I attended we were taught that the mother usually feels the activity of the baby when the mother herself stops acting. Little Luce would actually stop moving during meditation. I could feel her enjoying this unique stillness. For long time I used to think that because of this change in meditation, I was not meditating. Only now after 17 months from the baby birth I have realized that actually that was the best meditation I could experience so far, after all my mind was all the times drawn back to the belly and there pointed.

In my preparation for motherhood I used to chant a lot. The first was the Carnatic chanting proposed by the gynaecologist Fredrick Leboyer together with Savitry Nayr who both worked with Guruvayur Punamal. This chanting has its origin from South India (1). It is very energizing since it works together with the sound and breath, especially with exhalation. When the sound is exhaled, the womb inhales effortlessly. In addition, it is the repeated sound that, by producing a calming and soothing effect brings the mind to a good level of concentration. A similar effect was for me obtained by chanting the Gayatri mantra. I chose a melody which sounded nice to me that I also used as a lullaby when baby Luce came into this life.

Japa repetition was another way to stay in touch with the marvellous experience of carrying a baby. I used to do it in the morning on the street when I was walking to go at work, the mala in the pocket of my handbag or trousers. Later in pregnancy, I used to do it at any moment seated at home enjoying that very time and waiting for the big event.

To me this preparation was not just useful but also necessary to deepen my understanding of what responsibility I was taking as a mother, for my family, and as a starting point for society. I was preparing myself to welcome a baby with Ahimsa, and to learn gentleness and respect for another life.

I have learnt how this society can contribute to disconnect women from their innate nature of being mothers and how can it prevent them to explore and make full use of this potential. Most of the pre-partum courses in Western Countries give at least one class on how to deliver painlessly, through the epidural anaesthesia. They invite women to take a visit with the doctor few weeks before delivering to be sure that they fit medical requirements. I even remember my gynaecologist writing in my clinical folder that I refused to take the visit, while he tried many times to suggest me doing it to prevent situations that I could not manage during the labour if much in pain.

This is not the right place to discuss about the righteousness of all these many roles society is playing to welcome new lives. And I also learnt not to be judgemental. But I think that this way of considering the mother-to be and to receive the new life is affecting the society as a whole. If the mother is encouraged to be afraid of the pain that labour and delivering can cause by proposing unnatural preventive remedies to a natural process, the whole society is then afraid of the possibility to explore the Unknown. What pain is the one which is experienced during labour, no one knows until it is experienced. Which are the reasons for it, no one knows unless one prepares herself enough to receive explanations. And there is one more thing. Men will never know. This mystery remains mysterious for most of them.

Through a proper mental and emotional preparation, women will have this particular and unique chance to stay in touch with this mystery, and slowly explore it by constantly going back to their feminine force. To me labour and delivery have been the starting point for the search of this feminine power.

Physical Preparation
I discovered I was pregnant because some changes in my body occurred, but before that there was in my hatha practice one asana that was disturbing me a bit. That was the cat pose (Bidalasana). During inhalation and arching down of the spine I used to feel a sort of pull in the diaphragm which was not usual.

Soon morning nausea began and I had to stop the practice. I have heard it is possible for pregnant women to do asanas, but for me the very first four months was a period of body resting. I could not do it. At the beginning of the fifth month I started practicing again, in a very slow and participative way with the baby. I could feel what it was comfortable for me and for her as well. I enjoyed the joints & glands movements (2), and I used to practice selected asanas that could help both to relieve some tensions accumulated by the new alignment of the body, and to prepare the body for labor and delivering.

There were some precautions I had to take; for example, I would avoid all the backward asanas because that implies touching the belly to the floor, and of course we do not want to constrict the baby. Inversions were also not natural for my body to perform, though I could find a short hold in Setu asana (the bridge pose) enjoyable. Relaxation in Shavasana after all the sequence was very short, no more than five minutes. I did not like lying down unless to a side. That position was also uncomfortable in sleeping, during which I would put a small cushion between my knees while resting on one side, to relieve back tensions. I would enjoy very much poses like Vrikshasana (the Tree pose), standing forward stretch variations, Baddha Konasana (the butterfly), Gomukhasana (the cow), Vajrasana (kneeling pose), Janu shirshasana (head-to-knee), lying down twist. I would enjoy very much poses which could prepare for opening the hips such as Baddha konasana with forward stretch or janu shirshasana with all the preparatory movements. I remember I missed very much the sun salutation (Surya Namaskar), which I avoided throughout the pregnancy to reintroduce it only around the eight month. Of course it was a very slow and arranged version, since I had to skip bujangasana (the cobra) and ashtanamaskara (eight points) because they imply touching the belly to the floor. But it was very beautiful, especially because done with an attitude of devotion (3).

In my understanding there is no recipe for the practice that a woman can do during pregnancy. It is very individual, and every woman can decide what to do or not to do, provided she has developed the capacity to listen to her body. Some yoga teachers say that pregnant women should stop asanas during this period. It might be useful for some. In my experience it was useful to practice. It is important to listen to the body and to have a good guidance during pregnancy, because pregnant women naturally develop a sense of pain resistance, especially in the pelvic zone. That means that overstretching can occur in this area, causing harm to the ligaments rather than helping them to become more flexible.

I stopped practicing pranayama, even Bhramari and Ujayi which can maybe felt good by other women. Nadi Shodanam, the alternate nostril breathing, was instead a very important practice for the regulation of the breathing and emotional ups and downs that can happen in this phase of life due also to many physiological factors and changes.

Here is a sample of my personal practice:

Breath awareness and relaxation in shavasana (3 to 5 minutes)
Joint & Glands (20 to 25 minutes)
Face and head massage
Neck exercises
Shoulder rotation
Chest expander
Wrist rotation and fingers movements
Sides bend
Legs cradle\Churning\Hip rotation
Cycling
Legs swing\kick
Ankle rotation and toes
Balance on toes
Asanas (20 to 25 minutes)
Vrikhsasana (Tree pose)
Forward bend with feet apart
Malasana (squat pose)
Svastikasana (auspicious pose)
Janu shirshasana/Baddha konasana with forward stretch (head-to-knee/butterfly)
Lying down twist
Lying on side- alternate leg stretching
Surya Namaskar (Sun salutation)
Setu Asana (Bridge pose)
Relaxation in Shavasana 5 minutes
Nadi Shodhanam
Chanting
Meditation

Every day was a different feeling, so I would make changes in the practice especially for what concerns the duration of each step. I could decide to chant a bit more one day rather than doing asanas, or just do some rounds of sun salutation and then meditation. I was flexible in the schedule as my body and mind needed. It was a time I could be very gentle to me. And now I know why. In my practice I did not have any expectation for myself, unless entirely offering it to the baby. And some days I could even skip if I felt that, but when I was cleaning the house I was careful on how to hold the broom, how to collect the laundry from the machine and put it in the line to drying, how to sit, how to stand up, how to carry the shop bags. There was so much mindfulness in action because everything was done with love and care for the baby.

Labour and Delivering
The preparation I did for delivery in terms of, again, preparing the mind, body and spirit to welcome the new born, helped me in understanding that being mindful in my simple daily actions in order not just to avoid hurting the baby but also to harmonize the two of us in a single energy flow, was equal to constantly offering myself to a higher purpose, to a higher mind field to which I was devoting my being. The many fears a mother-to be can have during pregnancy, which came under my observation as well, were dissolving as I was presenting them before this higher purpose. For example, the fear to have a baby with some chronic disease, or to have a difficult delivery, or to suffer of post-partum depression and so on, are natural thoughts and worries that I think every new mother-to be can easily have.

In the West part of the world it is now difficult to find a place where a woman can deliver naturally without much hospitalization. It is unfortunate that practices like epidural or episiotomy, or unnecessary caesarean are very common. Women are less and less supported to give birth spontaneously, resulting in a difficulty for them to be guided by their instinct rather than rationality. Very often medical staff are not even prepared to support delivery without intervening in this natural process. Women are not much encouraged to live that moment as a spiritual moment, more often they are patients who have to deliver within a certain number of hours so that the rhythm and all the natural implications of the process that brings one into new life are not respected.

The preparation before and during pregnancy helped me understanding that I had to try as much as I could to experience labor and delivery as a spiritual moment, with no fears and expectations. I heard so many things about it, some good, some bad, but I was so happy that I was able not to be affected by any of other women’s stories. That was because I understood I was only partly responsible for this beautiful moment. I simply had to live it and to accompany the process to receive this beautiful gift. I had to give my entire self, and the rest was not in my hands.

In the ante-natal course I attended, I could witness the many worries other women had during pregnancy, but none of these women knew how to reduce anxiety and tensions. None of them could sit with a straight spine and allow the breath to flow freely and smoothly. The obstetrician leading the course was mostly giving information about the biological and physiological aspects of pregnancy and delivering. She was kind enough to present some emotional and psychological aspects of it that can affect the woman, introducing a breathing technique as an instrument to face them. But the structure of the course itself, which was organized and offered by the local health center, could not allow her to bring women experiencing it directly, thus remaining a theoretical suggestion that in most cases could not find application at the needed moment.

Because I had no fears left about delivering, I was looking forward to experiencing that moment. I was only hoping to find someone at the hospital that could be kind enough to understand the way I wished to experience the whole process. I stayed home for most of the labor, only in the presence of my partner and an old midwife who would send me to the hospital only when I was ready for delivering.

At the hospital I met a young obstetrician who first asked me if I were to take the epidural anesthesia. To my negative answer she asked me the reason why, to which I replied astonished but gently that I thought it was the right choice. She said she understood I wanted to deliver naturally and that she could help me. She sent me to take a 30-minute warm shower to relax, especially the back, belly and pelvic area. At my return to the delivery room, she put some music on, she allowed me to play with a big balloon to sit on and feel the pressure the baby was exerting on the pelvis. Most of the times I was able to walk freely around the room (which is not possible when epidural is being arranged), and breath every new pain into a non-pain. I was in a different dimension though being present. When I was ready the delivery phase began. The obstetrician allowed my partner to be an active assistant to her and to me. She explained me how I had to breathe during pushing, but I had learnt to exhale in a different way, with a different pattern. Finally, she abandoned any explanation saying to breathe the way I felt comfortable with. And this is how I did. While pushing I was exhaling long waves of joy, knowing that the hands of my spiritual masters were there to welcome Luce.

Laboring and delivering, especially for the first baby, is never a walk in the garden. It can be a long journey, but the most unforgettable one. It really depends on our preparation whether we want to keep the record of a unique and meaningful experience or to reject it as a traumatic event in life. And we can certainly prepare ourselves to generate the best environment and manage it the greatest we can within our own capacities.

Changes in Life and New Sadhana Arrangements
Every woman faces a change in life after having a baby to take care of. I have many stories to put next to mine, if this would have any sense. Each story is in fact unique and special, because unique and special are the relationships between mothers and their babies. I can only then talk about my story.

For the first six months of Luce’s life I was so much happy, so much curious about what next could happen, what would be her next step. I was participating with joy to this new phase of life. I only missed the time to do some hatha because I felt my body needed to realign and readjust after delivering, but also because of the tensions accumulated by the way and the time of carrying the baby in my arms.

As a new family, my partner and I chose to live in a small village by the seaside, in order to have all that we needed to stay fully available to the baby. In particular, what I needed was simply a relaxing environment to manage this big change. I used to take many nice walks during which I used to chant for us very much. Luce used to recognize the chanting and especially the Gayatri mantra which she had heard so much when in the womb. If she was crying, I would chant it holding her close to my heart and she would raise her face looking at me, smiling, and then she would go back to crying until either her hunger was satisfied or sleep would calm her. She would cry at evening time for the first two or three months. I think it is because babies are adjusting themselves into this new world. My partner would do the same, holding her in his arms chanting mantras and whispering calming words and sounds.

I did not have any preoccupations at the time, thanks also to the support of good friends who would send me messages of encouragement especially during the very first days where I was giving all my energies to allow breastfeeding to become an integral part of our relationship. I remember meditating on a universal force which would erupt in my breast in the form of milk. Milk finally came, so abundantly that I could feed twins. During this time of raising her it was very useful to me to read spiritual books, and I could do that every time Luce was having a nap. I used to go out for a morning walk, during which she would sleep for about an hour. In the afternoon I used to sleep with her, for two reasons. One it is because rest becomes very precious since babies, especially those who are fed with breast milk, are used to wake up at night. And there are babies, like Luce, who do it many times at night. Another sweeter reason is because I enjoyed so much resting next to her, feeling the contact with her body and breath. I was trying to respect all her basic needs, in the sense that I would do anything possible in order not to impose any schedule on feeding and sleeping. I would rather adjust my habits to it. I found it easy because again I decided to surrender. That means I had to strongly commit myself to the new task, but when things are done in a form of offering to the divinity or the universal force or whatever name we want to call that higher purpose which is Life, then they are done with no much effort, because there are no conflicts within. I did not renounce to my social life, because I reframed its meaning in the new contest, so that it was not a priority to participate in a late dinner at some friends’ houses or going to cinema, concert or whatever events. I naturally assigned different meanings to things and valued them according to the new perspective. It is a very intense experience to discover new ways of relating to the world.

After the first six months, things changed. I felt myself sliding down into confusion. New fears, or maybe old ones, came to surface. I did not know who I was anymore. I only wanted to have someone to talk with and the time for meditation. It coincided with the movement of my new family to a different country where I did not know anybody and the language was also new to me. On the opposite, my partner was enthusiastic, and I felt so much frustrated because I could not participate to his enthusiasm, cutting it down day after day. It became difficult to re-establish a schedule for my practice. As my baby was growing, she was changing her new habits very fast. It was difficult to set the time for meditation, let’s say, I would wake up at 6 o’ clock in the morning, but ten minutes after she would wake up too. The day I decided not to wake up for meditation at 6 o’clock, she would maybe sleep for one more hour. I felt as if I was not able to control and manage basic things. I knew it was a phase but this thought did not help me much in arranging my meditation time. I tried to do it in the evening. It worked for some time but often, after having fed Luce in bed I was so tired that I could not wake up to find out that I had also fallen asleep.

I tried to meditate while breastfeeding. It also worked for some time and then my mind was not able to concentrate for more than just few moments.

I asked for support from my partner. I wanted him to spend some more time with the baby for me to have the chance to establish my practice again. I felt released. Slowly my confusion disappeared, I was able to see clear again. One day, during a Sangha meeting, I spoke about my difficulty in meditating. One of the friends simply said that maybe I was not surrendering. I accepted her opinion as an option to think about. It took some time to understand it. Because I thought I was doing it already.

I learned two things. The first one is that I cannot count on somebody else’s availability to practice, even if this person is a very close one like my partner. He also has his duties as a father and as an individual in his own path. I am not saying that support from others should not be asked for. Actually I strongly recommend that. It is important to share and also have the time to cultivate a healthy mind. But to rely on that is not advisable. Every day things change. Only one support cannot cease to be granted if sincerely demanded. And that is the one provided by the force within, that I like to call the divine principle within all of us. When I find myself in a difficult situation, I ask: “Please God, do it for me”, or “say it for me”, or in recent times I even asked to breastfeed for me when I was very tired. I have always been granted help. So why not asking for support to do meditation? From my side I have to acknowledge what strengths I have at the moment and make full use of them. Maternity has been given me the opportunity to experiment yoga in action. Meditation is the most important step, but it needs a lot of preparation and constancy, both in the inner and external world. There are so many practices that can be done to help in establishing regular meditation. I find many of them very supportive to this phase of life. And all of them work well if only can we remember to offer them each and every time before the divinity within, God. That was the meaning of surrendering that my friend in the Sangha refered to. Surrendering is a constant attitude of mindfulness.

There is another big lesson in maternity. Maternity works similarly to a biofeedback device if we want to learn how to measure spiritual progress. Babies are mirrors of their parents before that of society. As mothers we simply have to tune us well to them and we will know how we are acting, progressing in our chosen path. And the secret is only one. Practice, practice, practice.

Notes

1) www.shantishivani.com/leboyer-toning.html
2) Exercise for Joints & Glands – Simple Movements to Enhance Your Well-Being as taught by Swami Rama, Himalayan Institute India 2007

3) Philosophy of Hatha Yoga, Swami Veda Bharati, chapter 2

---

Editor’s Note:

Tamara Soru is a TTP student L2 and attended a course for teaching children. Her mentor, Chiara Useli, is active at the Himalayan Yoga Institute in Florence, Italy and teaches about yoga and motherhood. Tamara writes, “I hope to be teaching soon. Next December I am going to SRSG for the Youth retreat to learn better how to teach children in our tradition. I am currently working for an NGO in Swaziland… in the coordination of an emergency project due to the drought that badly affected small farmers during the past two seasons. My main job, when I work, is to coordinate projects to support vulnerable people and territories.”