A Plee for Dietary Sanity

It’s ironic that I should be writing this. A few years ago I would look at people eating white rice and think they were slowly killing themselves. I would watch what the children I taught yoga to ate at lunch, and wonder how their parents could be so clueless and cruel.

Today, I see things differently. I am constantly seeing articles claiming to know what foods are toxic, what foods are carcinogenic, high in anti-oxidants, rich in calcium, why wine is good for you, etc., etc. While I understand the good intentions behind the research and the people writing these articles (hey, I’ve been one of them!), isn’t there something kind of neurotic about having to validate our every food choice with scientific, or (even worse) pseudo-scientific research? Does anyone else feel that when their aunt/uncle/brother/sister/mother/father/friend starts up a conversation about the arthritis-causing effects of tomato sauce at the dinner table, that it removes a little of the magic of sitting down to eat with loved ones?

Can we tone it down a little?

There is an old saying attributed to Alexander Pope that goes like this: “a little learning is a dangerous thing.” It alludes to the idea that learning little facts here and there about something can give us the illusion of being more expert than we really are. Most of us base our understanding of nutrition off of a popular article in an online blog, or a best-selling book, and feel guitly when we knowingly “disobey” the rules. In a world where media is constantly shifting the health paradigm, we can either develop an intuitive understanding of our body and food, or feel our head constantly spinning from contradicting information overload.

Let’s bring fun back to the dinner table!

KNOWING OUR OWN BODY:

Our body is an elaborate system of gross (and subtle) elements that should be known to us. So long as our body remains mysterious to us, we will seek advice from others rather than turning within for the answers. One of the reasons the yoga craze is so needed in the West is that it is helping our puritanical society, once afraid of their own physicality, to develop body-awareness. Hatha yoga especially, is concerned with movement of the more subtle, less frequently noticed muscles. In a hatha class, the teacher might ask us to fill our kidneys with breath, raise the arches of our feet, or inwardly rotate our upper-arms. These may seem like fairly useless abilities to cultivate, however, if we were able to bring awareness and mobility to every part of our body, no matter how small, how often do you think we’d need to see a physician?

SELF-EVALUATION:

Food is a touchy subject. Most people would sooner convert to a new religion than change the food they eat. Whether we follow an ominivorous diet, a vegan diet, a macrobiotic diet, an ayurvedic diet, a primal diet, a Mediterranean diet, or a colorie-restriction diet, the same rule applies: if we know our body, we will know if we are in good health. There are so many ways to self-evaluate: our energy level, our mood/emotions, our stamina, the depth of our breathing, the kinds of thoughts we attach to, the health of our skin, the amount of times we get sick in a year, the brightness of our eyes, the depth of our meditation, and more. Note how most of these do not include looking in a mirror! As we move deeper into the Aquarian Age, we must learn to look inside for the answers. That cannot happen without the self-knowledge that comes from neutral self-evaluation.

THE BEST THINGS ARE USUALLY THE SIMPLEST:

Beyond the gluten-free, the vatta-pacifying, the high protein, the low calories, the good fat, or any of the other ways we categorize good nutrition, is a very basic question: am I eating ACTUAL FOOD? By “actual” food, I mean, was it created in a science lab, or did it grow on a tree, a wine, or in the ground? Our processed food machine has become so clever than even the strictest dieters can still eat “junk” (i.e. gluten-free cake, or raw vegan cookies) that at least somewhat meets the qualifications of their manifesto. If we evaluate our ratio of processed to fresh—“actual”—food, what might we come up with? If it looks something like 20:1, it might be time to pick smarter snacks. My point here is we can start to evaluate our food intake through a very simple lens. It doesn’t have to be so complicated that we must rely on an encyclopedia. As our awareness develops, so will our subtle understanding of what different foods (even “actual” ones) do to our constitution. However, simple is a powerful place to start. 

IN OTHER WORDS:

George Dennison said it perfectly:

“What some call health, if purchased by perpetual anxiety about diet, isn’t much better than tedious disease.”

Saaaaaaaaaaaaat Naam.

In My Own Skin

Since about middle school I have had issues with my skin. Whether it was rashes, hives, acne in college, dryness, there was always "something." And when we are measuring the difference between where we are and where we want to be, often times, that measurement will seem too large to handle. 

I have read a lot of theories on why we have skin problems. Ayurveda attributes redness and pimples to too much "pitta" (heat) in the body, dryness to too much "vata" (or wind), and oiliness to too "kapha" (sluggish energy). When I was a raw foodie, people would tell you it was too much fruit, or the effects of cleansing. Yogi Bhajan (master of Kundalini Yoga) said inner-anger is the cause of all skin problems.

Last night I was driving to a class I was teaching on cultivating calm through our breath. I was reflecting on my "skin history," when I had a sort of epiphany about the relationship of our skin to our identity.

The skin is our home. Covering and containing the entire physical body, the layers of skin, literally, keep us together.

There are so many idioms we've created in the English language that reveal the emotional nature of our skin: 

-being thick-skinned (strong or unfeeling)

-being thin-skinned (overly-emotional, weak)

-being skinned alive (severely punished)

-jumping out of one's skin (shock or fear)

-being uncomfortable in one's own skin (lack of self-knowledge)

-getting under one's skin (irritation, frustration)

The one that popped out at me last night the most was: feeling uncomfortable in one's own skin. When we think of the relationship between our internal world and our outward appearance, what could explain skin "issues" better than a feeling of not loving our own home/self. 

And so, I find myself in immense gratitude for my skin—as it is now.

After all, feeling uncomfortable in my own skin has made the business of self-discovery a huge priority over the past few years. In discovering Kundalini Yoga, and taking Sikh vows, I have taken on a daily practice that helps me to create internal stability. Whereas I rarely felt stable growing up—I always knew we'd be leaving soon after we came—I have learned that I can create "home" within the confines of my own being, which is encased in this skin.

This ability was always within me, but it took all of these experiences to get there... and continue to go there. 

Something told me that my skin issues could be one of the best things that ever happened to me this morning. For, if we are not fiercely motivated to seek out our Self, we might not ever do it. And that would be a great waste. 

All I can say is, Waheguru!

Thank you,

Sirgun

New Video: Rakhe Rakhenhar

Sat Nam,

I have of late been playing music for many a Restorative and Yin Yoga Class at Studio Santosha Yoga in Peoria, AZ. I really love it because I can take my time and be very slow. I don't have to engage anyone, so it's not really performance. I treat it as time to immerse myself in deep meditation in the Sound Current (the vibration that runs through sacred texts, words, syllables). 

This happened last Friday night for Kate Shipps' class.

Love,
Sirgun

Are We What We Eat?

{This was first published on Spirit Voyage Blog}

A few years ago I really truly believed the statement “you are what you eat.” As long as it was uncooked, vegan, organic, and preferably local, it might stand a chance of making it onto my plate or into my Vitamix blender.

Otherwise, it was not “pure” enough to enter into the temple of my body.

I conceived of my relationship to food as a relationship to my Highest Self. Eating the freshest, tastiest, most colorful fare was my birthright and I was so thankful for Mother Nature’s abundant bounty.

I had a wake-up call when I entered the Kundalini Yoga world. On my first trip to Summer Solstice I was a little dismayed to discover that the “cleansing diet” consisted of cooked grains and legumes, and boiled vegetables—a far cry from my ideal fare. And yet, I recognized that these yogis had a brightness to them that (I thought) could only be the result of a pristine diet. But it wasn’t...

It took me a little while, but eventually I had a break through: a strict diet was apt to perform certain miracles, but there were some things better food just couldn’t do.

I learned a healthier diet CAN promise:

1. A Deeper Connection: Most accounts of raw foodists aren’t simply amazing stories of victory over physical ailments. Many tell of how they felt a much deeper connection to God as a result of their new diet. Eating a “sattvic” diet is actually a very old yogic principle. It’s one of the reasons why yogis are encouraged to abstain from foods that are difficult to digest and eliminate (i.e. meat products), as well as intoxicants. Eating a simpler and cleaner diet will definitely make it easier to wake up early and meditate.

2. Diet Changes Into Life Changes: For many people, including me, eating a diet that is richer in nutrients, and poorer in fillers, can bring enormous mental clarity. It was this clarity that, I believe, created a space for the Universe to enter... and then I discoveredyoga! In other words, diet change is a good start to a shift in consciousness.

3. Discipline: Eating an all living food diet was the most difficult thing I’ve ever put myself through. I didn’t want to eat out at restaurants with my family or non-raw friends. I spent hours of my day making elaborate meals so I didn’t get bored of salads. I had to plan my entire day around food: after all, I might get hungry and end up stranded with no viable food options. It was a neurotic sadhana for sure, but it certainly prepared me for wearing a turban and meditating every day. My lifestyle now seems like a piece of cake (that I can actually eat now!)!

I learned a healthier diet CANNOT promise:

1. Self-love: The way you look does not determine the way you feel about yourself. The way you feel about your self determines the way you feel you look. When I was eating only raw food and I looked in the mirror, I still saw my flaws first. Even though my skin was shinier, my waist was thinner, and my eyes were clearer, I didn’t appreciate it. The “could be better” disease still exists when we are eating perfectly. From my experience, if you don’t love yourself the way you are now, you won’t love yourself on a stricter diet either. Thankfully, yoga can help us connect to our soul and create a loving relationship.

2. Freedom from Fear: Many people come to a healthier diet from a deep-seeded fear of death and disease. This might seem reasonable when there are so many lifestyle diseases that could be avoided through a healthier diet. However, when we choose our food from a place of fear (i.e. adding cilantro to everything because it removes heavy metals from the body), the anxiety we experience isn’t much healthier than the toxins we are trying to avoid. Joyfully, yoga can help us release our fears and enjoy our food more.

3. To Cure Everything: I learned through my adventures in raw foodism, which lasted over 2 years, that diet cannot cure everything. I thought if I ate a perfect diet I would eventually be so tapped into Universal Consciousness that I wouldn’t have to deal with worldly issues. The truth is, there are things we have to go through. We are here on Earth to learn and grow. We cannot do that without experiencing life and all its unexpected curves. Sometimes experiencing life involves being at a friend’s house and eating the pizza they ordered. And let’s hope it never involves feeling sorry about that.