The practice of listening – interview with Eddie Stern
Do you know that you have manage to write a book which could be used as a yoga handbook (if such thing would be ever needed)? I have been reading it for quite a long time because after every chapter I needed to stop and think over what I had just read, and I’m sure I will be reading it repeatedly. How did you get the idea of writing your book? What was your purpose?
The idea for writing a book that looked at why yoga works in a comprehensive manner, and not just through the lens of Ashtanga Yoga, has been brewing in me for about 10 years. It was obvious to me that yoga has the same types of effects on people regardless of what kind of yoga they were practicing, but I didn’t have the language to investigate why that was so until I started getting into the world of science. After learning about the nervous system, and in particular the branches of the autonomic nervous system and functions of the Vagus nerve, I started to gain a physiological understanding of why the various components of yoga exert such a powerful and transformative effect on our bodies and minds—no matter what kind of yoga that it is that you practice.
The most fascinating thing about your book are shown parallels between achievements of modern science and traditional yoga wisdom. How did you get the idea to match and combine these two matters?
The idea to match these came from yoga itself. The yoga texts, and the different Indian yoga teachers that I studied with have said on many different occasions that yoga is for the strengthening of the nervous system and control of the sense organs. I studied the yogic views on the nervous system for a long time. It wasn’t until about 8 or 9 years ago that I really turned my attention to the Western views of the nervous system. At a certain point the correlates became obvious, so that is what I ended up writing about.
What is the most important thing you have learned thanks to yoga practice? What is the most crucial thing you want to share with your students?
The most important thing that I’ve learned from practicing yoga is to be patient. Change and understanding takes a long time. We go through layers and layers of self-discovery, and each layer of self-understanding changes our perception of both ourselves and the world we live in. The world is a difficult place. It is filled with suffering, hardship, unfairness, and challenging relationships. The ability and maturity to sit with hard things without having to change them, and then to realize something about ourselves that then automatically leads to us changing our own behavior seems to be built into the practice of yoga. Yoga is a practice of listening, first to yourself, and then applying that same non-judgmental listening to the world and people around you.
Today many teachers constantly travel round the world. Do you think it’s important for a yoga teacher to have her/his very place where she/he work regularly to create a community?
There have always been different types of teachers who serve different needs. In India, there is an ancient tradition of the wandering mendicant, who never spends more than three days in any one place. During the rainy season, the mendicants gather together to do spiritual practice for four months. In modern times there will be teachers who want to have their own schools and create a community within their cities, and some who do not feel that they want to, or can, hold that space. Some, by virtue of traveling a lot, have students all over the world and so through traveling they continue to connect with them. There isn’t one, best way. I used to visit my teacher in India once per year, for about 3-4 months per visit, and practice at home by myself the rest of the year. I didn’t have a local studio to practice in. So that’s how I learned.
You seem to combine these two models – you run quite regular classes in New York, but at the same time you travel a lot. Is it important for you that you have “your” students, people who come back to you regularly – in NY and other places around the world?
My favorite years of teaching yoga were when we had our yoga school on Broadway from 1995 to 2000, and then our school and temple on Broome St., from 2000-2015. My wife and I especially miss Broome St. It was a beautiful school, one that we had put a lot of love and care into, and it was a small sanctuary for people in NYC. I think being able to create that kind of a space for people is a good thing, and we hope to do it again one day soon. I also enjoy traveling to teach in other countries, but mainly to support local Ashtanga Yoga communities. It is nice to stay in touch with what is now a growing world of practitioners, and to make new friends in that world. In these workshops I think it’s important for us to figure out how to keep in mind the importance of being able to sustain and integrate yoga practices into our daily life. That’s why I like to teach workshops in urban settings with local communities so that people can practice, perhaps learn some new things, engage in philosophical or scientific discussions, and not have it be completely divorced from their daily life. At least, that is my goal; whether or not that is the reality of the workshops is another story. So, right now I have a combination of both traveling and city teaching. Since we do not have a yoga school right now, I teach one week each month in the New York, and travel once or twice per month as well. If and when we open a school again, my travel schedule will lessen.
And from another side: is it important to practice under the guidance of one teacher?
Sri Radhanath Swami once said, “Even if there are many airlines going to the same destination, you can’t get on all of them, you have to get on one.” In the Hindu tradition, where the guru-shishya or teacher-student model originated, it is said that you should follow one guru and one practice. The reason for this is because if you have too much input from too many people about the same topic, it will get confusing, and you might never reach your destination. It’s important to practice with a teacher who you trust, and who you feel can teach you what it is that you want to learn. Sometimes a teacher can teach you something that you didn’t know you needed to learn, and when that happens, it can be very special and mind-opening. Don’t stick with one teacher just because you think you have to. If a teacher is not right for you, it is ok to be grateful for what you’ve learned from them and move on. If the day comes when you meet a teacher who you feel is the one for you, then the need for going to other teachers might naturally fall away.
In the Hindu tradition, there are different types of gurus. Those who teach knowledge and practices are called shiksha gurus. Gurus who give initiation into mantras and lineages are diksha gurus. Gurus who are spiritual guides and awaken the disciple to their highest self are sadgurus. In different traditions you’ll find different delineations. Generally speaking, a student can have many shiksha gurus, but just one sadguru. I have had different teachers for yoga, Sanskrit, chanting, and philosophy. For Ashtanga yoga I just had one guru. But over the years as I’ve learned more about science and physical therapy, I’ve incorporated those learnings into the way that I teach Ashtanga yoga.
During your workshops there are Mysore classes and pranayama, chanting and/or philosophy classes. You don’t teach handstands or other “physical” classes. This isn’t common (well, at least in Poland). I understand this is an expression of what is important to you in yoga practice?
It is true, I do not really teach classes on techniques or tricks about how to do postures better, simply because I do not know a lot about that. I first was drawn to practice yoga so that I could expand my awareness and try to become a “better” person in the world, and to know who I was on a deeper level than I understood myself. Asanas are helpful for that because they can connect you to your body, giving you stability and ease. After you have some stability and ease, then you can begin to focus on more subtle things, like energy flows, breath, and what your mind is doing. It’s good to challenge yourself in practice, because challenge is how we grow, so I am not at all dismissive of asanas, I love doing them. The way that I learned asanas was that a good way to learn how to do a pose is simply by doing the pose.
Do you have any advices for yoga teachers? What should we do to teach not only asanas, but also theoretical, philosophical and spiritual aspects of yoga, and not to scare people with them?
My only advice for yoga teachers is the obvious: teach what you know, don’t pretend to know what you don’t. Also, don’t start teaching too early, it’ll take a toll on your practice and you’ll start to lose your energy and eventually start to lose the connection to yoga within you. Remember why you practice, what you practice for, and what is important to you in practice, and then when you teach, you will know where you stand. People will learn what they need to from their own practice, so as teachers, we should help to guide people to be able to do their own practice, so they can get the inner understanding of themselves that they are looking for.
What about ashtanga? Do you think that everyone can practice it?
Anyone who wants to practice Ashtanga Yoga can practice it. Those who do not want to practice it, shouldn’t!
You have a contact with people practicing ashtanga in every corner of the world. Do yogis from different countries actually differ from each other? Or maybe it’s true that we all are just one great yoga family?
The main thing I’ve noticed is that yogis are basically the same in every part of the world. People of course have cultural differences; some people are more serious, others less serious, some work harder in their practices, and some practice only on occasion, but the thing that is common is how yoga makes people feel, and how it shows in their behavior. We are one, great, big, yoga family, and like all families, we don’t agree on everything, and sometimes we judge and argue… but at the end of the day, we’ll always say, he’s still my brother, and she’s still my sister.
Photo Michael Halsband