BY KEREN ELIEZAR 

kerenoryoga.wordpress.com

February 1st of 2014 coincides with Rosh Chodesh of Adar I. Adar I is the added month that balances the Jewish calendar on its solar-lunar cycle verifying that the appropriate months align with the correct seasons. It
precedes Adar II, the time of the joyous celebration of Purim. Together,
these two months mark an exceptional joyous time in the history of the
Jewish people.

Rosh Chodesh in general marks the emergence of a new moon. Although
both Yoga and Judaism are ancient traditions, the similarities between
Judaism and Yoga never cease to amaze me. As such, I recently learned
that in the Ashtanga practice, it is customary not to practice during “Yogi”
Rosh Chodesh – full and new moon days. The premise behind this
custom being that humans are also afected by the phases of the moon.
The gravitational energy exerted on earth because of the solar and lunar
cycles may cause us to feel less grounded during times of full and new
moons, when the energy is at its strongest. (http://
www.ashtangayogacenter.com/moon.html)

As stated, Judaism goes by a lunar-solar calendar. Our days start at
nightfall with the emergence of the stars and moon. Rosh Chodesh is the
beginning of a new month but also the beginning of a new moon. This
time is considered spiritually auspicious in nature (especially for women).
And although the Talmud states that women’s work was abstained from
on Rosh Chodesh, the beginning of the month remains a time to draw
closer to your spiritual practice rather than shy away from it as done in
the Ashtanga practice. The energy of the month ahead is refocused as a
time for prayer, thanks, and self-awareness.

Whether you choose to practice asanas or not during Rosh Chodesh, it is
an advantageous moment to refocus and ground yourself. Find time to
light a candle and say a special prayer. Give thanks for what you have and
what you have achieved. Create a heightened sense of self awareness and
spiritual awakening by reminding yourself to live deliberately and
consciously each day. This is the perfect time to re-connect to your
spiritual self for those that have been feeling disconnected lately.

One of my most memorable Rosh Chodesh moments was when friends
decided to hold an “amen” meal. Everyone brought a diferent type of
dish. Each friend led the rest of us in a bracha on their dish. We started
with “pri ha-gefen” and ended very untraditionally with “ha-motzei” (so
we wouldn’t rule out all the other blessings!). We covered the works –
fruit from the ground, fruit from the trees, grain, “shehakol”, and finally
“ha-motzei”. Each blessing was followed by a resounding “amen” before
trying the dish. After “ha-motzei”, we dug in to full size portions. The
individual attention to each bracha and accompanying food helped
refocus our intention – kavana – in prayer as well as elevate the
significance of Rosh Chodesh.

The energy of Rosh Chodesh serves as a re-awakening and re-stirring of
the spiritual soul. Jews have always capitalized on the unique capsulation
of time. Think of the new moon as a time when the energy of the new
month is being capsulated in one day. All the potential energy of the
month to come exists in this one moment – Rosh Chodesh. All the new
experiences, revelations, growth, and positive thought that will exist are
bound into this day just bursting to begin. Each time you recite the
special prayer for the new month on its first day, each time you say a
bracha over food that day and include the special insertion for the new
month, each time you spiritually connect on this day; think of this
potential energy of beautiful experiences that are yet to come.

Rosh Chodesh is an opportune moment to remind ourselves just what a
wonderful, energetic world we live in and how we should give thanks for
being a part of this world every day and every month. This opportune
moment is something both Yogic and Judaic practices can agree on. The
specific Rosh Chodesh of Adar I is the start of this joyous period in Judaic
history and for 2014 it also marks the promise of warmer days ahead.
The potential energy of Adar I should ignite your day and month with joy
and understanding, spiritual connection and renewed enthusiasm for
yogis and Jews alike.

Keren Eliezar is currently pursuing her yoga teacher certification. She
recently started a local program to help women find strength, spirituality,
and physical awareness through yoga and Judaism. She blogs regularly at kerenoryoga.wordpress.com.

by Reisha Golden

Yoga means to yoke onto the spirit – How does this relate to Judaism? In Judaism, unity is translated into Yichud or Yechidah – the bringing together of that which is transcendent (beyond time and space) into that which is immanent (within time and space). In yoga, the unity we refer to is mind – body connection, or soul-body connection.

Similarly, Ha-tha means sun-moon, sun – transcendent, moon – immanent, so too Jewish mystics would explain God and man with transcendent and immanent qualities. Just as God’s initial creation of the universe was twofold – “in the beginning God created the heavens and the earth” — so did he create man and woman in a twofold manner, body and soul. As it says Genesis 1:27, “And God (Elohim) said: Let us make man in our image, after our likeness.” We are made in the image of God, both with imminent qualities (physical) and transcendent (spiritual) qualities.

In man, this “heavenly” part, the soul, brings forth its “earthly” part, the body, that they appear to be one entity. Jewish mystics teach that your soul is what created the body, or that the physical body perfectly mirrors the spiritual soul within it. This is why Kabbalah views that our physical health often reflects our spiritual health.

What is the soul? The soul is what calls out for love. According to Sfat Emet, the “soul” refers to desire; it is the innermost soul that constantly draws forth life. Kabbalah or receiving, simply put, is about the heart, about knowing how to be balanced from within, in our receiving God’s light and love and, in turn, emanating that light and love to others in a balanced way. And by giving light and love, it does not diminish, but we become an open vessel to receive more. The premise of Kabbalah is that we open ourselves as spiritual vessels for receiving God and fulfilling divine will and our individual purpose on Earth. This is the purpose of Jewish Life.

How do we accomplish this lofty task? -by connecting to our deeper selves.

Mystical Judaism says that we can attain knowledge of God through experience of the self. Kabbalah or receiving is an experiential process. So too yoga.
​
Yoga is about this mind-body or soul-body connection. We, in effect, are connecting to the body to connect to our consciousness or to our souls. Like the brain sends and receives neural impulses to and from every part of the body, yoga too opens us to the energy centers of our body – be it chakras, or sephirot . And by opening ourselves to our deeper consciousness, to our soul, we can, in turn, be open vessels to receive and give to others the universal love and light that surrounds us.

by Zack Lodmer

Zack teaches OmShalom Yoga in Los Angeles

Yoga and Judaism

“Yoga” means “union,” or “union with the divine.” It doesn’t mean “contortionism,” or “hippie commune” or “Lululemon.”

“Judaism” means “monotheistic religion [of the Jews],” or “belief characterized by one transcendent G-d.” It doesn’t mean “bagels and lox,” or “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” or “big beard and black hat.”

And “Jewish yoga” certainly doesn’t mean “contorting my body to the shrill soundtrack of a Larry David monologue.” Nor does it mean giving up my Judaism.
Not even close.

My practice weaves yogic teachings and philosophies with Jewish teachings and philosophies. And while I don’t think such a practice is all that rare nowadays, it is sometimes dismissed by people on both sides of the coin without much understanding. Disapproving Jews say “Feh! It’s a Hindu practice and it’s avodah zarah (Hebrew for “idolatry”). Disapproving yogis say “…but how can you practice Jewish yoga? Yoga is for everyone!”

Here’s what I can tell anyone who holds either of those disapproving opinions: it works for me. I am part of a growing body of people who recognize deep, logical, and undeniable links between the practice of yoga and the practice of Judaism. My Jewish-infused yoga practice is where I draw inspiration, seek silence, challenge my ego, find understanding, share community, and tap into connection with G-d, Hashem, Adonai….or whatever you want to call the divine source that connects us all. Rabbi Myriam Klotz has said, “Yoga is a means through which I can come to ‘sit in the House of God’ [Psalm 27].” And I couldn’t agree more.

By examining the basic tenets of yoga and Judaism separately, we can better see why so many people are drawn to “yoga with a Jewish twist” …….oh…and puns? Definitely Jewish.
At its core, yoga is a practice that unifies practitioner with source, human with divine. While we are all human, yogis believe and revel in the notion that the common thread among all things—living, nonliving, animate, and inanimate—is the divine. The asanas, or the actual poses, are just a tiny part of the (much) larger picture of the “union” that yoga explores. In his text, “The Yoga Sutras,” (literally “the book” on yoga), Pantanjali (literally the guy who “wrote the book” on yoga) illustrates the eight limbs of yoga; limb by limb, he spells out exactly what it means to practice—and it’s much more than downward dog and plank pose. In fact, the only real guidance on the actual poses that Pantanjali gives is an admonition that they must be “steady, firm and comfortable” (sutra 2.46). Most of the text is devoted to extolling the proper virtues of a yogi (compassion, truthfulness, nonviolence, nonstealing), and outlining specific ways to solidify the union with the divine (breathing, focusing energy on a single point, following rules to live a pure, proper, balanced, non-disturbed life, turning inward), with a huge emphasis on the importance of acknowledging, praising, and ultimately melding with the divine.

At its core, Judaism is a religion based on the belief, eloquently stated by Maimonides, that “all existence depends on G-d and is derived from G-d.” It follows that in Judaism, while inhabiting this temporary body, we are obliged to perform tikkun olam (“repair of the world”) through the fulfillment of 613 mitzvot, or “commandments” (also often loosely translated to mean “good deeds”). The mitzvot spell out exactly what it means to be an upright Jew: recite prayers of thanksgiving for food, do not engage in hurtful speech, give charity, honor your parents, keep your word, don’t covet, and 607 other various and sundry commandments. By following the commandments, performing acts of reparation, and engaging in lovingkindness, we indeed become closer with G-d. And while “poses” are not at the crux of any Jewish practice, there certainly are specific movements that a Jew in prayer performs: bowing, standing, swaying—all in the name of creating oneness with Hashem. In the Talmud (a collection of rabbinic discussion, analyses and musings on Jewish law and ethics), it is written that Rabbi Shimon Ben Gamliel would “bow down and put two thumbs into the earth, suspend his body in the air, kiss the ground, and straighten up” (Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Succot, 53a).

Unfortunately, mainstream “Jewish practice” in the modern world is often understood to take place only in cavernous rooms with stained glass windows, filled with people clad in designer suits and dresses, void of any movement or breathing. The swaying, meditation, and exaltation that used to accompany Jewish prayer on a wide scale have all but disappeared outside of Chasidic and Jewish Renewal communities. When was the last time you saw someone bust out a handstand in shul?

Similarly, the phrase “yoga practice” has become largely synonymous in the modern Western world with “asana movement practice.” It evokes images of ripped, toned twenty-somethings sweating it out on rectangular rubber mats laid over pristine hardwood floors. In reality, one can practice yoga anywhere: on the bus, in the home, in the middle of that important meeting, during a conflict with a family member…especially during a conflict with a family member. That’s where kshama (patience), and daya (compassion)—two “non-asana” aspects of yoga—are truly needed.

Yoga and Judaism, two ancient practices that seemingly share so much, have been narrowly interpreted to a fault. We’re simply not seeing the whole picture.
But that doesn’t have to be the case.

I’m not a rabbi, but I know that the trend in modern rabbinic authority makes it abundantly clear that the practice of yoga is not avodah zara. I’m not a guru, but I’ve been to enough yoga classes with themes on Shiva, and chants of “Hari Bol” and “Shri Ram” to know that infusing a religious practice into a yoga classes is totally acceptable and enjoyable for a great many people.
And while I’m not a nutritionist, I do know a thing or two about vitamins.

I know that if I limited my vitamin consumption to fish oil and only fish oil, my body would certainly appreciate the introduction of Omega-3s and all the positive effects that would follow: better heart health, cancer prevention, vibrant skin, etc., etc. But if I limited my vitamin consumption to fish oil and fish oil only, I’d surely miss out on the digestive benefits of my probiotic, the rise in bone density concentration and the mineral infusion from my coral calcium, etc., etc.

Reb Zalman Schachter-Shalomi has said, “We’ve gone about as far as we can go as separate and isolated faiths. G-d has given each faith some vitamins that the others need, and we won’t be able to survive in health unless we exchange those vitamins.” While I agree with the spirit of Reb Zalman’s sentiment, I don’t fully agree with his word choice. I wish he would’ve said “spiritual practice” instead of faith. To be clear, yoga is not a faith. Yoga is a physical and spiritual practice, and not a religion. Practicing yoga does not mean it must be to the exclusion of practicing Judaism, or vice versa. In fact, yoga works well in concert with any faith; yoga practitioners do not give up their religion and become apostates the minute they get into standing splits.

While classes that talk about Ganesh and chant “Om Nama Shivaya” are nice, as nice as they are, these themes are just not mine. They don’t tap into my deeply-held beliefs as a Jew. What has made my practice more emotionally connecting, meaningful, comforting, and enriching has been the introduction and exploration of text, Torah, and Jewish prayer into my yoga practice. The synergy has made my yoga practice more personal, and my Jewish practice more relevant. It feels authentic and powerful. Spiritually, it feels like a potent mix of diverse but complementary vitamins at work for the betterment of my soul.
Practicing unity with the divine and fulfilling G-d’s commandments can (and should!) be done simultaneously; if you’ve never done it, try it before you knock it. You might find that both experiences become more profound. Perhaps you’ll see that you can repair the world with a stronger intention and effect greater change. And if you’re asking my opinion?…it just plain feels good.

So practice your Vinyasa. Pray. Move. Meditate. Sweat. Study Torah. Keep Shabbat. Live the Yamas. Clear your mind. Read the Yoga Sutras. Take your spiritual vitamins. Be healthy and prosperous, inside and out.
​
Namaste and Shalom.

The thoughts we have, the words we chose and the movements we make profoundly affect and influence our souls. Therefore, as Jews, we have an obligation to ensure that all of these garments (machshava, dibur and ma’aseh: thought, speech and action) are kosher in their source. It is very easy to think that by making alterations to non-kosher things, we have made them kosher. But often, at the very best we have perhaps removed some of what makes them treif (non-kosher) but there is still a very far and often unbreachable leap between something not being treif and it being kosher. And ultimately, even if it has been accomplished we must be careful not to refer to it by its treif name and then add the word “kosher.”

All the more so when the concept or essence of something is not just treif but Avodah Zarah (idolatrous ritual and worship). In recent years, the practice of yoga has become incredibly popular as a form of exercise. And for many it helps with flexibility, posture, balance and relaxation. There are claims that rabbinical authorities have said that as long as it is removed from its Hindu sources and that the practice does not involve anything connected to idol worship (such as a Buddha in the class or the ringing of bells/chimes) that it is OK. And from here has developed the concept of “kosher yoga.”

Rav Ginsburgh’s position is that yoga is treif. Yoga is intrinsically connected, at its source, to Avodah Zarah. And therefore there can be no such thing as a kosher form of it. It would be like making the statement: “Kosher Avodah Zara” again, a contradiction in terms at the most fundamental level.

If you look up the definition of yoga it is clear that yoga is inherently connected to Hinduism, all of the poses are a translation (or are) from Sanskrit, and its literal meaning is that of “union” or “connection” which is the belief system in idolatry.

Furthermore, yoga, in its practice, is intended to be a holistic union of mind, body and soul which is why the movements are intrinsically connected both to the worship of things (be it animals, nature, etc.) and is done with specific breathing as the breathing is intended to connect to one’s soul as the breath of life.

As Jews, we are intended to move like the angels, not like animals, which is foundational to yoga. The majority of yoga poses are named after animals and much of yoga philosophy explains that we are intended to connect to the animals through these poses and to understand and emulate them. And in Hindusim the cow is considered holy and sacred. So there is a world of difference between moving in a way that would be described as “bending forward, with legs straight and arms straight and stretching the quads and calves” and calling it “downward dog.” As soon as the term “downward dog” is used, at its source, the goal is to connect and relate to the dog in thought, in speech (its name) and in action.

Therefore, some of the movements and stretches are, in and of themselves, not problematic, but their labeling and use in the context of “yoga” is where there is an issue. Many of the poses are used in a variety of exercise, be it pilates, Barre, strength training, core work, etc. So if one wants to work on back flexibility, any trainer would use movements that stretch the back in a variety of ways. And the terminology would be on the stretches and movement rather than poses. The issue is once those movements are called “cow pose, “cobra pose” or “camel pose.”

If the names of animals are problematic, all the more so when one uses the terminology and poses that are named after Hindu sages such as “Bharadvaja’s Twist” or poses such as “Half lord of the fishes pose – ardha matsyendrasana” which is used in almost every exercise class for stretching but can be explained as a half spinal twist. And there are other poses which are all about spiritual connection, making ourselves receptive to these higher powers, etc. such as “mountain pose.” All the difference in the world between one who is standing upright, and one who then calls that position “mountain pose.” And likewise, the traditional “warrior poses” all relate to Hindu mythology with stories about their most renowned being, “Bhagavad Gita” which is directly connected to avodah zara.

There are many ways of exercising and moving for one’s health, flexibility, strength and balance. The issue is once these movements are called by their Sanskrit names and in conjunction with the stories and philosophy that a traditional yoga workout entails. It is not sufficient to remove the Buddha from the classroom, not ring the bells or chimes, and yet have participants then get in the “downward dog” pose and inhale and exhale as they count to “mountain pose.” To even claim that one can think about Hashem during these poses is a contradiction at the most fundamental level. To claim that “modern Yoga” is no longer associated with its original form (and yet is called by the same name) is like saying that there is no issue with having a Christmas tree or celebrating Christmas as it is no longer a Christian holiday but an American, cultural day. These things are problematic at their root and cannot be made kosher without being completely disassociated.

Furthermore, while this is not the main issue, there is something else to be taken into consideration. There is no definition or set of rules that define “kosher yoga.” This means that every instructor decides what is “kosher” based on his or her ideas or perhaps even guidance from a rabbinical authority. However, not only is there much room for misinterpretation and mistake, for the unknowing participant, if “yoga” is being offered at their local synagogue, Jewish center or in any Jewish context, then the message is that yoga is OK. So then when they attend another yoga class, they have no basis for understanding or determining that in this other context it is being taught in a way that is unquestionably forbidden as it is outright Avodah Zarah.

In Jewish law there is the concept of mar'it ayin, which loosely translated means that if something appears to be non-kosher (even if it isn’t in actuality) it still is not allowed as others will not understand the difference and it could lead them to breaking actual Jewish law. For example, if someone sees a rabbi “eating” in a non-kosher restaurant (when in actuality he is only drinking water in a disposable cup) one can think that it must be OK to eat in that restaurant because the rabbi is in there, and then go in and eat non-kosher food. All the more so with yoga, as the above explains how there is no true form of “kosher yoga.” But even a practice of yoga that is seemingly removed from its idolatrous connections would still give the impression that yoga (in any form) would be permissible to be practiced, and that, is a serious problem.

To conclude, at the very least, if a person chooses to exercise and use movements that are found in yoga, those movements should be termed by how they work the muscles and joints and affect the body. They should never be called by the terminology of the yoga poses and the overall movements and exercise should not be referred to as yoga or “kosher yoga.”

However, as Jews it is not enough to do things that simply disassociate from their treif source. But rather, we have a responsibility to create truly kosher paths in all we encounter. It is definitely possible to create a completely new system of movement, breathing and exercise which is kosher from its conception and at its source. This would require movement which has the kavanot (spiritual intentions) and terminology truly in line with Kabbalah and Chassidic philosophy with a goal of using these movements to bring G-dliness into this world.

Rav Ginsburgh has been working with his students for a number of years to develop kosher movement. At this time some of these movements are being taught in India by Dror Shaul in Daramsala and by Zohar David in Rishikish. The goal is to expand the movements and create a fully rectified approach for both body and soul. In the end, this will be healthy and healing for both Jews and non-Jews alike, and will be a method for revealing G-dliness in all and to all.

Deborah Wineman has been a yogi for a long time. A certified yoga instructor, she began practicing the discipline in her 20s. But it wasn't until two decades later that Wineman, who was raised in a less observant Jewish background, discovered how she could infuse Judaism into her yoga practice. It was then that a mutual friend introduced her to fellow yoga lovers Rebecca Minkus-Lieberman and Jane Shapiro.

Minkus-Lieberman and Shapiro are two of the co-founders of Orot: Center for New Jewish Learning, founded in 2014, offering a variety of Jewish experiences integrating study and wisdom. The programs, yoga and meditation among them, offered through Orot -- a past JUF Breakthrough Fund grant recipient -- are designed to engage heads, hearts, bodies, and spirits in immersive ways that make Jewish wisdom accessible to all.

"We use different modalities for people to find their way in -- through music, art, reflective creative writing, and embodied practice. Yoga is just another natural avenue in for people," said Minkus-Lieberman, a longtime educator in the Jewish community.

When Wineman took her first Orot class, she was hooked. "The class was about Shabbat as a practice of mindfulness," she said. "I was like, 'Oh my God. This is it.'"

"We're trying to give people opportunities to really experience what it feels like and put themselves into the narrative of the Jewish people. Yoga is a wonderful avenue that allows us to do that."

She hit it off right away with Minkus-Lieberman when they realized they shared a passion for tapping into the wisdom of yoga. Soon after, the two co-taught their first class, a Rosh Chodesh yoga class, in Wineman's basement, figuring Wineman's already-established Jewish yoga clientele might be interested in trying out a Jewishly-infused meditative experience for the first time. As they predicted, the class was a hit.

So how does one connect the Hindu practice of yoga with Jewish wisdom? Wineman and Minkus-Lieberman say the two disciplines naturally align. "When I was studying yoga, I learned that there are 10 living principles--right away, I thought about the Ten Commandments. These feel very similar," said Wineman. "The 10 principles, the Yamas and Niyamas , create wholeness and are things you do in the world. It reminded me of the mitzvot , the ones you do personally and then the ones with God or with the outside world."

Wineman stresses that yoga is not a religion. "The last principle," she said, "is to 'surrender to a higher power'…Yoga is not a religion--it's not telling you to bow to a Hindu deity. It's really [up to you] who your higher power is. Yoga just provides the tools for ethical living."

For the past three years, Wineman and Minkus-Lieberman have been teaming up through Orot to forge ways to create the embodied experience of Jewish teachings and rituals for the Jewish community. They teach special yoga events around the Chicago area themed around the holidays, Jewish philosophy, and soul traits, inspired by the Mussar practice. Through their classes, they introduce a Jewish theme and integrate it into the meditation through body, breath, and movement. It's not just about thinking about the Jewish text, they say, but about feeling it in your body.

"There are many instances in our tradition where we're asked to put ourselves back in a certain reality," Minkus-Lieberman said. "We're trying to give people opportunities to really experience what it feels like and put themselves into the narrative of the Jewish people. Yoga is a wonderful avenue that allows us to do that."

For instance, in preparation for Passover this past spring, they taught a yoga and meditation class intended to embody the felt sense of liberation through posture and movement. "You're supposed to imagine as if you yourself went out of Egypt. You can think about that intellectually-you can think about liberation and slavery," Minkus-Lieberman said. "But in this class, we really wanted people to personally experience the arc of Passover, of moving from an enslaved experience to a liberated experience."  

The instructors use yoga as a tool to explore Jewish contemplative questions throughout the entire Jewish calendar. For Purim, they ask students to reflect on what joy feels like in their body. For the High Holidays, they match postures and movements to illustrate showing up more fully in the year ahead. On Chanukah, they explore what it means to embody light in times of darkness.

In the summertime, they hold a beach yoga class--this year on the morning of July 8 at Glencoe Beach-where they ask their students to attune themselves to, and give gratitude for, the natural world around them, the gifts of the sunrise, the sand, and the waves.

Wineman and Minkus-Lieberman also offer Shabbat retreats, incorporating movement and meditation, into an immersive two-day experience.

All the programming shares the goal of carving out a space of refuge amidst the chaos of daily living, explained Minkus-Lieberman. "Life is just crazy," she said. "There's noise and information overload all the time, and people are craving opportunities for quiet, rest, refuge, and meaning."
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To register for the "Moving with the Waves" yoga experience on July 8, visit bit.ly/MovingWithWaves.

by Gina Dimant of Ahava Yoga

ahavayoga.blogspot.com

Stepping into a room of Jewish women is thrilling- it is like being in the middle of a fire works show. Every mind is so full, open and has room for more. They have been served the appetizer and main course of mysticism and growth that Judaism has to offer, and here I am, with what I feel to be dessert that their bodies can savor while their minds digest their primary form of enlightenment. How can I, or any yoga instructor, live up to this task? Darshana, the Sanskirt word for “philosophy,” literally means, “seeing.” Yoga sees the body in a certain way—an apparatus that must to be aligned and positioned to pick up a frequency of sacredness. While teaching yoga to groups of Jewish women, I am blessed to be among those who have grounded themselves in their roots of culture and the Jewish axiom in order to progress their individuality, and more so, their bodies, to the point of optimal function. The key is that they are not slaves to progress; rather, the progress, and poses, serves them.

With internalized concepts such as Tzniut, we understand the Yogis who strive to mute distraction to listen to their bodies. With Tzniut, the clothes serve the woman (or man), and in Yoga, you know the poses serve you and that your body is your souls instrument. My studio space was often filled with the music self-exploration. I have had students in some of the most intricate poses from the first practice, and with proper guidance offered, they asked for more! I had one magical Israeli woman tell me “jump on me, step on me!” because her hips were so tight, she needed more opening in double pigeon pose. She knew the work involved at opening that hip joint, as do all these students when they aim to open muscle and bone groups, knowing their on their way to being full-fledged practicing yogis. One student mastered Downward Facing Dog in just one week of practice. If muscles, bone and joints are really instruments, then I aim to score bodies in some wonderful melodies while the breath is their tone. Focusing on internality, these ladies have taken tznuit to such an internal level, its in their bones, and shows in those Adho Mukhas (downward dogs). Teaching (both co-ed and) all women’s classes is tantalizing, as the range of physical accomplishments is unbounded with these spiritually awakened souls.
​
OM Shanti, Shalom OM

By Ida Unger 

www.yogagardenstudios.com

It is the season of Teshuvah. Traditionally translated as repentance, the word literally means returning, as in returning to awareness of God, or returning to the essential self. In his important work on teshuvah, Rav Kook, a rabbi of the early 20th century and a vegetarian taught that the process of returning had three levels or aspects.

According to Rav Kook, the first level of teshuvah is based in natural law, or in yogic terms, the law of karma. Here we experience how what we give out is equal to what we get back. He further teaches that reality manifests for each person according to his or her own perspective. Once we realize this hidden aspect, there is a level of spiritual growth. We have ‘returned” to a degree.

The next level is the teshuvah of religion. People must be taught to broaden their consciousness and to aim high, to admit to sin and start anew. Every religion has a way to repent, to let go of past issues and to begin again. Our Jewish tradition offers this time of year as an ideal occasion for self- examination, release and goal setting. At this level, faith rooted in tradition creates a path of forgiveness of self, as well as others.

It is only after these first two levels of teshuvah are discovered and practiced that the highest level becomes accessible – the teshuvah of reason. Here we find a deep understanding of the holy. This level incorporates the previous two phases and in Rav Kook’s words “abounds in endless delight. It transforms all past sins into spiritual assets. From every error it derives noble lessons, and from every lowly fall it derives the inspiration for the climb to splendid heights. The is the type of teshuvah toward which all aspire, which must come and which is bound to come.” At this level, one sees the Divine light is all.

The yogic journey has parallel levels. We often come to yoga to heal pains, or to reduce stress. Here we experience cause and effect. We see that through our actions we can gain a new perspective, and this new perspective can shape our reality. We can go to class or do a practice and feel better. This is what Rav Kook called natural teshuvah.

Next we aspire to learn more – if yoga can heal my back, what else can it do? The initial empowerment leads to a greater vision of what is possible. This is the level of religion. What is known about this path? Who has walked it before? What did they learn? What truths can I learn from those who have gone before me? There is submission here. We acknowledge the limits of our own perceptions. It does mean that we must acknowledge our blind spots in order to act humbly but intelligently in the face of advice or direction.

The highest level happens when the seeker sees that all things are connected. Herein is the third level of teshuvah – seeing the holy in every moment, seeing the Divine Source as a partner. The level of serendipity, or divinely inspired coincidence raises to a peak and life is forever altered. For the yoga practitioner, this is manifested in the physical no longer being experienced as a barrier, but rather as something that can be realigned to allow the experience of the inner flow of energy. When this happens, the connection to All That Is becomes palpable.

Yoga is a physical guide to the same truths that Rav Kook sought to share. He redefined sin as not so much wrong doing as missing the mark, resorting to fear when love would better serve. We are given this part of our annual cycle to awaken us to our deepest selves. Teshuvah is a returning to self for a fine-tuning of our souls.

May your High Holy Days be filled with light, love and listening.
Taking It to the Mat

Practice the sun salutes, Sri Namaskar. Take notice of the cycle and how each round is similar, yet has its own dimension. As you “return” to each pose, what has released? What has awakened? Our lives cycle through the seasons, just as our consciousness cycles through the body, as we practice. As you bring awareness to your body, all aspects of self are awakened anew.

Stretch into yourself for the year 5766.

Namaste’ B’shalom,

Ida Unger, M. Ed. and Certified Iyengar Yoga Teacher can be reached at www.yogagardenstudios.com

See Judaism section for a listing of classes.
She grew up with a Yeshiva education and a love of Torah and spirituality. In the early 90’s her Jewish roots began to connect to her yogic wings, resulting in a deepening of both.

By Pieta Woolley

When Eoin Finn hit his early 20s, he found that the Catholic Church he’d grown up with just wasn’t satisfying his spiritual hunger anymore. His deepest questions—“What happens when I die?”, “Why am I here?”, and “What can I contribute?”—weren’t being addressed in a digestible way. As a student of comparative religion, he bent away from Catholicism toward Buddhism, and then to yoga. That’s where he found his spiritual home.

Now a Kitsilano-based yoga instructor, Finn (who calls himself a Blissologist) believes the discipline is filling a spiritual need for many Vancouverites who have abandoned western spiritual traditions—just like him.

“The myths associated with our religions don’t work for people anymore,” he told the Georgia Straight. “The idea of a white, bearded guy in the sky passing judgment doesn’t make sense to the average person.…For the past 50 or 60 years, there’s been a spiritual void in North America. Now, all of a sudden, there’s something people can relate to. That makes it hugely popular.
Yoga is about how to deal with greed, which is a huge spiritual issue in our culture.”

His statements are sweeping, but Finn might be on to something. Vancouver is the least-religious major city in Canada, with 42 percent of us declaring on the 2001 census that we had “no religion”. That’s up from 30 percent in 1991. Indeed, we seem to be losing our religion.

Meanwhile, Buddhism, which is associated with yoga, has almost doubled its ranks over the past decade, according to Statistics Canada. From University Boulevard to Boundary Road, mat-carrying locals can be seen strolling to and from classes, with Tibetan emblems embroidered on their sacks. So, is yoga filling our city’s religious void? Like everything in “Lotusland”, the answer is richer and more complex than it might seem, thanks to our diverse and contemplative population.

For yoga instructor Evelyn Neaman, it’s not a matter of replacing one religion with another. A synagogue-attending Jewish Kabbalist, Neaman told the Straight that yoga practice strengthens her Judaism—and the faith of her dozens of students. “I’m trying to bring life back into an ancient movement,” she said. “People are searching out meaning from ancient traditions, asking themselves, ‘How can I blend them and make my life more meaningful?’?”

Neaman pointed out that among Buddhists, there’s an abundance of Jewish people. She calls them “Jew-Bus”, shorthand for the kind of spiritual mixing she referred to. In a synagogue-based faith, she said, you depend on your attendance to express your faith. With yoga, your faith’s expression is integrated into your life. You depend on yourself.

At Naramata Centre, a left-leaning Christian retreat in the Okanagan, Marion “Mugs” McConnell has taught interfaith yoga for more than 25 years. In yoga, she said, you can find the compassionate core of all faiths: Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, and others. As baby boomers approach old age, she believes, they’re looking for their spiritual selves.

In this framework, McConnell believes, modern North American yoga is where ancient religions meet, flow into each other, and bloom in a new consciousness, like the lotus.

“When I teach, people want to find the similarities, not the differences” between the religions, she told the Straight. “That’s the beautiful thing about yoga. You don’t have to be Buddhist or Hindu or Sikh to enjoy yoga. You can follow whatever fits with your heart. The teachers today are so accommodating.”
Some say they are over-accommodating, and that North American yoga has been watered down into a turtle-speed aerobics class. Like many, McConnell is sad for the instructors who seem to be in it for the money, and the pretty-pants couture among B.C. yoginis.

Neaman agrees with the Buddhist point that the reason for doing yoga is to make the body sound for meditation, rather than hot in a bikini. Without meditation, what’s the point of the warrior pose?

Tatsuya Aoki, the resident minister at Vancouver Buddhist Church in Chinatown, hopes that yoga and Buddhism will be practised together by everyone.
“It’s like if you play ice hockey,” he said. “If you understand all the strategies in your mind but you never play, you can’t be good at it. And if you play but don’t understand the strategy, you [also] can’t be good.”

It’s a tenuous argument to press, because yoga has been fluid for thousands of years. Each culture that has embraced it practises it slightly differently. Most likely, it was Hindu first—the exact origins are obscure—but it has also been incorporated into Buddhism, Sikhism, Sufism (a mystical sect of Islam), Judaism, and Christianity.

Finn argues that yoga has now been incorporated, as part of its evolution, into our materialistic culture. And that’s not a bad thing.

“You cannot transport something into another culture without having that culture transform it,” said the man who teaches a yoga class for surfers in Tofino once a week. “A lot get into yoga for shallow reasons; it will make you very fit. And I don’t think that yoga would have enjoyed the renaissance it has if women couldn’t go to it in such nice clothing.…But the values will become a part of people’s life, even if they’re just concerned about how their bum looks in the pants they’re wearing.”

Finn thinks that yoga’s next incarnation, as a spiritual practice for these atheistic times, could be legitimate. So do Neaman and McConnell. In fact, even the shallowest yogini-Barbie likely can’t resist what yoga has to offer—beyond flat abs.

“When you do yoga for a long time, it does change you,” said Neaman. “Your soul shines through. When you’re lying there in savasana [relaxation] at the end, it is a bliss state, and we’re all looking for bliss. It’s when your mind and body are connected. And who wouldn’t be attracted to that?”

Aoki is concerned, though, that fad-loving North America might drop yoga like the Hula-Hoop. He remembers when the Dalai Lama came to town in 2004, and Chapters was full of books about the Tibetan spiritual leader. When he left, Chapters was no longer full of books about the Dalai Lama.

“Last December, so many people donated money for the [Asian] tsunami, and shared their compassion with those who suffered through the disaster,” he continued. “But after a year has passed, hardly anyone thinks of the tsunami. Now our attention is to the people of the United States.

“People’s interest comes quick, and it can be gone quick, too.”

But for yoga, Vancouver has proven, there’s always another incarnation.

27-Oct-2005
​

by Marcus J Freed 

www.bibliyoga.com

Do you ever find yourself rushing to yoga practice, annoyed at the
traffic jam or frustrated because you didn’t leave 10 minutes earlier?
Or mildly miffed with a partner because they didn’t do that thing
they’d absolutely promised to do? Or wishing, deep inside, that
somehow life’s latest little challenge could just be a little bit easier?
Perhaps it’s just me.

This week my thoughts turned to the image of a group of Jews
camped at the bottom of Mount Sinai waiting for their leader
Moses to come back down with the hard copy of the ten
commandments. They’ve already experienced the ultimate
moment of spiritual connection when God spoke the Decalogue
out loud, they’ve felt the moment of pure yoga – the connection
between the physical and the spiritual – but now they want a bit
more. They aren’t happy with waiting, they’ve got frustrated, they
want something more tangible, so they build a golden calf. Their
yoga practice has completely gone out of the metaphorical window.
It’s significant that Patanjali placed the topic of pranayama as the
fourth part of his eightfold yoga path in the Yoga Sutras.

Pranayama is the practice of breath control, the way that energy is
actively moved around the body and many subsequent yoga
teachers have gone on to explain how concentrating upon the
breath will allow us to calm our mind and become more connected
with the present moment.

We might read the story of the golden calf as a denial of the
present moment. The Jewish people had experienced a spiritual
high and they wanted more, they didn’t accept that the present
moment demanded their waiting for Moses to return and they built
an idol to satisfy their story of what should have been, rather than
accepting the moment as it was.

This pranayama/present moment idea goes one step further when
we look at one of the names God calls Himself in the Bible. When
Moses meets God at the burning bush, he asks how to describe
God to the Israelites. The simple-but-cryptic reply is ‘I will be what
I will be’ (Ex 3:13-14) and the Jewish yogi might interpret this
understanding of God as pure presence. The Divine Being,
however we choose to relate to Him/Her/It, is being expressed and
realised in every single moment, whether we like it or not. Our role
is not to be frustrated and become annoyed when things are not as
we would like, but to watch it from a place of calm non-judgement,
just as we do when discovering that our bodies are refusing to go
into that asana that seemed easy to achieve last week.

This thought can be developed even further. The period between
Pesach and Shavuot is known as the Omer, and we make a
blessing as we count each night from 1 through to 49, as
commanded in the verse: “From the day after the Sabbath, the day that you bring the sheaf of wave-offering, you shall keep count until seven full
weeks have elapsed: you shall count fifty days until the day
after the seventh week, then you shall bring an offering of a
new grain to the Lord…On that same day you shall hold a
celebration, it shall be a sacred occasion for you …” (Lev.
23:15-21)

The omer-count that we do today, since there is no longer a
Temple where we can bring an offering, is a rabbinic device
nudging us into the present moment, methodically allowing us to
connect to each day and deepen our spiritual connection as the
new festival approaches, looking forward to the celebration of
receiving the Torah at Mount Sinai.

Shavuot means ‘weeks’, another reference to the time that we are
counting, and our challenge is to meet God and renew our
connection. An opportunity for the Jewish Yogi is to apply the yoga
practice in the way that we approach this experience. Whether we
are in shul or at home, learning Jewish texts or discussing ideas
with friends, we can observe each moment from a place of calm
and peace, and in that essential moment of shalom, we can
welcome the divine.
Wishing you all a wonderful Shavuot.
​
Marcus.