Yoga & Happiness

December 2005
by Linda McGrath

The idea of opening the studio came very unexpectedly into my life, and very soon thereafter, I realized that if it was going to happen, I'd have to make up my mind and jump on it pretty fast. I remember precisely what made the decision for me: during lunch at my old job, I went to the local restaurant and I couldn't help but notice how glum everybody looked. All these hot shots, the kings of Silicon Valley and they all looked like somebody had eaten their cookie. That same afternoon, I went to YogaSource in Palo Alto and 3 of the teachers were hanging out after class. One of them had just taught, another one was going in to teach and a third one was just there to practice. I don't think anything particularly cheerful had happened to either of them but they were all glowing. All 3 faces exuded this high degree of general contentment. And that did it: I thought “what do you want your face to say when you're at work?”

I've often wondered since then, what is it about yoga that does that. Why is it that we can go into a class wanting to murder our boss/beloved half/child and 90 minutes later walk out of there feeling ecstatic to have the fore-mentioned boss/beloved half/child in our life? Why is it that if we go for a few days without practicing, the dog knows to tip toe out of the room as soon as we enter it. Is it the endorphins? Well, all cardio releases endorphins, so though I'm sure that contributes, there's gotta be more to it because it's not just the immediate rush. There has to be a long-term happiness effect. I know from experience.

I can remember being much more cynical and grumpy before I started practicing. For me, everything had been ok until that first slap on the butt by the midwife. From that moment on, I had started looking at how I'd been wronged. Just like Mick, I couldn't get no satisfaction. If anything bad happened, I'd decide it was going to be a bad day altogether and I was very skilled at fulfilling the prophecy. And then I started practicing and my outlook changed a lot. I still have bad days now, but nothing like I used to. So, can yoga change our character? Can our character be changed in the first place?

Not according to some research. Someone did a study where they followed a few people who'd won the lottery and another group who had become paraplegics. You'd think that one extreme is going to make you euphoric and the other extreme is going to make you really sad but the study showed that after just 6 months, as soon as the people had gotten used to their new situation, they were more or less the same. If they were basically an optimistic jovial person they're now an optimistic jovial person in a wheelchair. If they're a petty miserable person, they're a petty, miserable person with a Cadillac, a house and a boat.

In another survey however, this one done by the World Values Survey Association, Puerto Rico was rated the “happiest nation” out of 80+ countries. Based on the answers to the survey, a dramatically higher percentage of Puerto Ricans are happy with their lives compared to us here. In comparison, we, Americans, are over-worked, over-leveraged, over-weight, over-psychoanalyzed and over-divorced. But it's not us; it's the culture we live in. That's great news because culture most certainly falls under the “nurture” influence of our personality. This means there is no happy chromosome we need to obsess over having and we can be, after all, masters of our own grumpiness.

What's even more interesting about this study and the part that baffled the scientists was that 59% of Puerto Ricans live below the poverty line. So, just like the first study showed, happiness isn't so much about what happens to you, but more about how you deal with it. The key is in our reaction.

So where does yoga come in? Getting there; hold on. Sally Kempton, one of my favorite YogaJournal columnists recently wrote about the Sanskrit concept of “samskaras”, or the neuronal patterns in our consciousness that create our mental, emotional and physical default settings. She compares them to mental grooves, “like the rivulets in the sand that let water run in certain patterns”. In other words, they're the programs your brain uses when it goes on auto pilot. The more a program is used, the stronger it becomes and the more difficult it will be change. That's the bad news. The good news is that we can change them by catching the reinforcement of the negative pattern before we're about to do it and replacing it with a positive reaction, which very often can be as simple as not reacting at all. Over the long term, this will alter the pattern to lead to the new and improved conclusion.

So picture this as an example: you snuck out of work early to make it to yoga, you're driving on 17 in the middle lane when some arrogant a%^$&*e in a mid-life crisis car speeds up in the lane to the right and without signaling or anything, cuts in front of you and on to the left lane, barely making it through.

Old you: slams on the breaks, tries to catch up to him to give him a piece of your mind with the coordinated hand gestures, makes it to yoga, walks up the stairs still mumbling and furious and spends the class imagining different scenarios where you run into him again in various settings and make the perfect remark to put him in his place: “no, even better, I see him in church with his children…”

New you: composed and serene, acknowledges what happened, maybe even acknowledges “oh, what an a%^$&*e”, then asks yourself: “Self, what am I going to get working myself up about this?” and decides to instead think about how lucky you are that you could sneak out early and make it to yoga.

The key here is becoming aware before reacting. And that's where yoga comes in because, ultimately, yoga is an exercise in awareness. It's like a meditation but much easier (and more fun) because it gives you something to do, something that you can focus on. It develops the discipline to be in the moment and in your body. To feel the pose in every single part of your anatomy and follow it and live it and watch it develop. It's the same discipline that helps you stay aware of the current reality inside you, whatever it may bring, good or bad, and stay with it despite the distractions.

And there are so many of them in a class … There's the woman who always walks in late and sets up right in front of you. We could think about that all class long. Then there's the ego – that can get in the way of awareness too. You know very well you have a bad knee but you're gonna do Toestand anyway. Or the fact that somebody next to you can do the pose better – is that what distracts you? There's also the need to be entertained. Have you ever resented an instructor because they were not entertaining enough? There's the people-watching. The fidgeting. There's the multi-taskers. The problem-solvers. The dialogue critics: “well actually, it's not the right knee that's facing forward, it's the hip…”

Deep down, though, we all know better. And that's why we love classes that are hard because in those classes, there's no way you're gonna make it unless you are 100% there and the feeling at the end of such a class is priceless: it's this deep satisfaction of having connected with our true self. Once you realize that, really internalize it though, you'll be on the right track. And one day, you'll get to a stage where and you'll look back at how your practice has evolved and you'll ask yourself: how could I possibly have found the time in a one-minute pose to think about anything else. Then, you'll be advanced student. And a happier one.