I was raving to a friend about my yoga teacher the other day. I was going on at length about his knowledge of the human body, how he knows every muscle, bone, ligament, tendon. He knows the scientific names for all of them, as well as their functions in movement. As I took a breath to prepare for further praise of him, my friend asked me, “Is he a 'real' yogi?” I thought it a strange question, and instinctively responded, “I think everyone is a yogi.” She looked confused and asked why I thought that. I tried to answer with a thousand confused and floundering words. Something about how “everybody looks inside,” “everyone evaluates,” “everyone is trying to figure out how to do life,” and so many other words until I quickly ran out of steam.
I’ve been chewing on the matter for a week now. Writing notes, collecting ideas. Why do I think everyone is a yogi? What does that mean? I even googled, “What is a yogi?” Not surprisingly, a yogi is defined as a practitioner of yoga. In consideration, I think most people practice various aspects of the eight limbs of yoga, whether they know it or not. But here are a bunch of other words to further explain.
The human experience is a complicated and unique opportunity in awareness. Whether a person knows they are aware or whether they don’t, they are. There is an element within us that is always aware and could never be unaware, and I’ll get to that in a moment.
For now, I’ll summarize our common situation. We all participate in a shared reality, even if our own versions must be singular. We all operate under similar illusions, misunderstandings, and confusions--the main one being that we know what we’re doing, and how and why we are doing it. Along with that, we often dream-exist in a moment other than this one, which is the only one, so that we are essentially sleepwalking.
We are all bound to a personality, a body, a mind, and all kinds of complicated and confusing stories and emotions. We all function under a conviction that our personalities, bodies, stories, beliefs, etc, define us—even though all those things are temporary and fleeting.
Even if we don’t know it, we all fear death and simultaneously yearn to be free of the fear of death. Fear of death is fear of life. That fear creates so many baby fears--as anxiety, anger, depression, and addiction (to media, substances, ideas, work, shopping, etc) to keep us distracted from ourselves and our lives. We seek liberation, even as we cling to our lives.
We are all everything and nothing. We are everything, to the extent that each distinct life experience contains a universe of perceptions, particular to us. Each consciousness is the center of the universe, for all practical purposes. It is the only thing we know, it is everything we know. And yet we are nothing. These personalities, bodies, minds, stories, and beliefs will die with us. Each life/universe of experience will sputter or explode and die, sooner or later. But sooner. And each of us will be forgotten, as if we never existed. As such, we are nothing. A dream of a life situated between states of nothingness, returning to nothingness.
But here we are, experiencing the privilege of human consciousness, as confusing and limited as it may be, for a short flash in time. We are trying to live our best and only lives. As such, we all have the capacity for greatness or mediocrity (or worse), kindness or cruelty, courage or fear. We must make choices all day, every day, that promote our best interests or detract from them.
We all aspire to do better, be happier, make better choices, and yet often we can’t. We all have the capacity to examine why we can’t, and heal it. We can all engage in the yogic practice of self-study, in which each of us is the teacher, student, and subject. Whether or not we take that opportunity does not change the fact that it exists.
We share so much in common, although admittedly that may not make us all yogis.
This is what makes us all yogis, to me: If there is such a thing as a soul, how could they be different? What’s the point of a soul if they are diverse, fleeting, superficial, fluctuating? Doesn’t it stand to reason that a soul, by definition, would have to be the same thing? The soul would be an extension of the whole of creation (“God” or whatever word resonates with you.) The soul is an essence, a spark of the Whole, that sustains and contains everything. As such, it is Whole-y (holy)--non-changing, ever present, available. If one soul exists, then all souls are the same one.
I think of the common metaphor about the ocean. If you scoop a glass of water out of the ocean, it appears to be a totally different liquid. And if that glass of water sits on a shelf long enough, many of its qualities (it’s “personality,” it’s “body”) may change. But the moment it is poured back into the ocean, it returns to its state. It has always been ocean. It could never be anything else.
And that brings me to the point: We are all in the same boat. We all share the same advantages and afflictions of human life on planet earth. If one soul exists and each of us has it and is it, then (in theory) wouldn’t it be accessible to explore and experience? If human consciousness has the potential to explore and experience that ever-present, non-changing spark of Wholeness, then we can unite with it. That spark is the greatest, wisest, kindest, bravest version of each of us. Connecting with it is a practice of self-mastery, self-control, and self-realization.
The Sanskrit word Yoga means “to yoke, to join, to unite.” Whether we know it or not, whether we practice it or not, the opportunity is there. The potential is there. The invitation is there. To me, that makes us all yogis.
Namaste.
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