The Niyamas Week 2 - Santosha: The Undercurrent of Serenity

 Santosha

It’s our seventh initiation.

We are moving into our second niyama:

Santosha

There are many ways to speak of Santosh.
We could use lots of adjectives.
What is important is that
we connect with at least one of them.
Maybe all of them.
And recognise:

“I know where this is in me.”

Santosh is the place of contentment inside of you,
a place of peace.
A place of harmony underneath everything,

 Untouched.
Unshakeable.
Undisturbable.

A place of perfect poise and balance.

Equanimity.

Mick calls this place: Paradise.
And I love that —
because that means Mick is giving this place value.
And that is what is required to become established there.

Serenity.

This is Santosh.

And it asks us to confirm
that we know this place inside of ourselves.

To confirm it is the essence of us,
that is perceivable when we are not off doing other stuff in our minds —
building our own hell.

Because paradise is always underneath.
It doesn’t vanish
just because the world is loud.

It is your sanctuary
in the middle of the storm.

And this doesn’t depend on what the conditions of the psychology are
or what the external conditions are.

You don’t need calm surroundings
for this to be true.

Nothing needs to happen for Santosha to be the case.
It is always the case.

There’s something in you
that stays still
even as everything else
moves and spins.

Something in you
watches it all
with a calm, harmonious smile.

That’s the treasure of treasures.
The joy beneath all joys.

And when we’re anchored here,
everything that flows from this place
carries its flavour.
It brings harmony.
Natural joy.
Effortless peace.
It naturally encourages resolution.
It is a bringer of peace.

It doesn’t create war.
It encourages balance.


And learning to remain here
is about valuing it.

That value
deepens with time.

Often because
we keep leaving it.

Each time we return,
it’s value increases because
we remember what we lost by leaving.
And slowly,
we begin to ask:

If this peace is so true,
so real,
what do I keep exchanging it for?

And is it a good exchange?

That’s the enquiry.

How much am I giving away
in order to leave this place?

And that enquiry
gradually gives us strength.
It gives us power
to root down and stay.




The message is:
You can be here,
whilst experiencing everything. 

The presumption we often operate under,
is that it is the going out to excitement or despair
that gives life it’s meaning.

We all know the feeling of going out to excitement. 

 When you leave yourself
for excitement,
you’re no longer the enjoyer.
You become the excitability.
The chaos.

And soon,
it will fall flat.

You experience it
outside of yourself,
and then —
you fall flat
outside of yourself.

You know that feeling?

And then, normally,
there’s a return.

But what if…
we didn’t go out
toward the excitement
or the despair?

What if
we didn’t go out
to create drama?

What if
we could simply experience
everything
from where we are?

Let it all happen in our space —
as the great enjoyer of all things,
without being pulled into the storm.

What if
we allowed the storm
to take place
within the space of us,
rather than becoming it?

Rather than becoming the storm,
why not let it play out
in the space of our equanimity?

In the space of our peace.

Because what happens to a storm?
Eventually —
it has to settle.

There is no storm
that lasts forever.

So whatever’s happening,
however wild it gets,
it still must return to Santosha.

It always does.

If I have a big bowl of water here,
and I splash around in it —
stirring, shaking,
making waves and ripples everywhere —
as soon as I take my hand away,
what happens to the water?

It returns
to stillness.
It has to.

So why not
be the place it returns to?

Why not live
from that place?

This is the invitation
of Santosh.


The Master is sat in front of us saying:

What are you doing?

Don’t go out to the chaos.

Stay centred.
Let it all happen around you,
and notice —
it all settles down,
and comes back to you
in any case.

Everything is destined
to return to stillness.
Because it arose
from stillness.

Just like your breath
arises out of a space —
and it has to return there.


So…
discovering what causes us to leave Santosh
becomes the enquiry.

And then asking —
was it worth it?

Did I actually have to leave?
Or could I have just stayed put?

Could I have
put lead in my boots
and not gone up with the hot air,
the drama,
the big “Wheee!”

We love creating that stuff, don’t we?
It’s a big freaking show.

We’re trying to make life
exciting and interesting —
but life’s not actually exciting
when you are stuck in it.

Eventually,
it becomes suffering.

So be the one
who stays home.
More and more.


Of course, we’ll fail.
We fail at all the yamas and niyamas, don’t we?

But simply the endeavour
starts giving us our anchor back.

And while everything else
is flapping and spinning,
you become
the undercurrent.

Now to the one doing all the spinning,
this may sound boring.
A flatline.
But it is the only one
experiencing joy
it is the only one seeing clearly.

The only one
with the bigger picture.

Because it is
able to watch it all
happening
without getting caught in it.

This is the one
of wisdom.

And we value
such beings.

In the middle of a big storm —
who do you lean into?
The one flailing,
or the steady one?


I had an interaction today.

We had some people over for lunch.

 The woman, Jane, was glowing.
You know when someone’s just glowing?
Her eyes were sparkling.

So I mentioned it to her:
“You’re looking great.
You’ve got a real sparkle in your eye.”

It’s important we say this to each other
when we see it.
Not out of politeness —
but just acknowledging:

“Wow… the lights are on.”

She said,
“Yeah…
funny you should say that.
For some time now —
maybe the past week —
I’ve been feeling such peace.”

But she almost seemed troubled by it.

“It’s really lovely,” she said,
“but what do you do with it?

 It’s such a beautiful enquiry…

Because that’s the thing
with peace,
and joy,
and love.

You can’t do anything with them.
They do something with you.

When you’re resting in peace,
it’s doing something to you.
It’s sorting you out.
Purifying you.
Transforming you.

It’s changing you.
That’s why love, peace, light, and joy
are what they are.

Because you can’t
do anything
with them.

So for Jane,
her mind was going:
“Okay, well, this is all very well…
I’m feeling the treasure of treasures.
I’ve found what we’re all seeking.
I’m feeling such peace…
now what do I do?”

Nothing.

You let it do.

Because when we rest in this,
it does everything.
It transforms everything.
It colours everything.
It perfumes everything.

It radiates its own qualities
wherever it goes.

What is there
for you to do?

 Except the one thing
that nobody does — 

Just stay there.

And that —
that is the challenge
of the yogi.

That’s the sadhana.

To find it,
and then learn to stay.

To ask yourself:
Why am I hopping around,
creating chaos again,
when I could have stayed
where I belong?

Where I was being taken care of —
without needing to manage anything?

Sat in the lap of God.

We are like children who keep wanting to crawl off of the lap
to play with some toys.

The yogi simply comes and sits
back in the lap,
and allows Life
to unfold
from there.

Santosh.
Rest in the contentment
you already know
exists within yourself.

And see
that this contentment
brings joy
to everything you do.

Value serenity.
Value being
the peaceful one.

Start to love
not getting caught
in the chaos.

Find out
“Wow…
this is a totally different way
to do life.”

It’s a new role.
A new responsibility.

Ah…
Santosh.

Of course,
you’ve got it
in action.


The posture flow make sense
of a lot of things.

We’re putting in,
putting these yamas and niyamas
  these divine principles,
into our bodies.

And we’re moving with them.

And that’s often when we really understand —
“Ah… I see how it works.”

It confirms that it works.
It shows us
the glory
of what it has to offer.

So it feels like
the main message —
Is a counter-message
to our psychology.

Because the mind will always try
to understand Santosh —
but it cannot.

It’ll always try
to do something with it —
but it can’t.

It can’t improve
on what is already
inherently within you.

But bloody hell,
it will try.

And it will definitely try
to take the Santosh principle,
and own it for itself.

Be God.
Control it.
Turn it into something.

It’ll mistake Santosh
for passivity.

But Santosh
isn’t passive.

It’s active surrender.

It is
divine neutrality
that gives birth
to clarity.

Neutrality is something
we’re definitely not fond of —
because our psychology
is always divided.

But neutrality
means unity.

It’s a neutral, open,
spacious field
in which everything
can be seen
with clarity.

That’s powerful, no?

To be with such a power
inside yourself.


So let’s say —
if Sam is with me,
and I’m in a disturbed state,
and Sam leaves her natural serenity
to come out toward me —

to help me,
save me,
sort me,
fix me —

whatever her mind wants to do to sort me out—

if she moves out
on a wave of pity,
and she can’t hold her ground
in Santosh

Then she becomes
part of my problem.

It seems like a terribly empathic and compassionate thing to do
but it’s not.

There’s a story about this…

A frog falls into a well.
Another frog sees it —
and dives in.

Now there are two frogs in the well.

Then another frog runs up,
“Oh gosh — there’s a disaster!
Panic!”

Same thing.
That frog has left
his froggy Santosh.

Looks down,
sees two of his mates in the well,
crying,
“Please help! Please help!”

In he goes.

This is what we do
When we leave ourselves
because we’ve lost the basis
of that which resolves everything.

Then the smart, wise, yogi frog strolls up.
No panic.
Just presence.

He looks down into the well.

“Help! Help!”
“We’re drowning! We’re drowning!”

He says:
“I’ll be back in a moment”

He sees clearly.
He’s got clarity.

So what does he do?

He picks up a rope.
He lowers it down
and the frogs climb out.

That is santosha.

Santosh responds
non-reactively.

It has the time,
the space,
the composure
to see what’s really needed.

It offers the space
for things to resolve themselves,
largely on their own.

And it understands
that simply its presence
is often enough
  for things to resolve,
without much interference at all often. 

So if Sam
just holds a space for me.

Just holds a space.

And she doesn’t leave
her serenity.

She becomes
my resolution.

Or in other words —
she coaxes me
back to my own serenity.

Because my chaos
isn’t working on her.

You see what I mean?

What a gift.

What a beautiful thing
Sam just did for me.

She allowed me to return
because she didn’t believe
in a temporary disturbance
in my psychology.

She just didn’t believe in it.
She knew where I’d end up.

Back in my peace.
Sooner or later.

So she didn’t panic.
She was the wise froggy,
offering Stevie a rope.

But Stevie had to climb out
himself.

I hope…
I hope you feel the power of it.

Because serenity,
can look almost weak
to the mind.

The mind will say,
“But what can I do with it?”

What will it do with you?




One final thing...

The mind can easily
mistake serenity
for a type of bondage.

Like now
you’re not allowed to lose it.

It will tell you
you are a failure
if you get angry,
or panic again.

We’re always ready to give ourselves
a spiritually hard time, aren’t we?

But be watchful.

Because in time,
you’ll begin to notice:

Even when you temporarily panic
in Santosh,
a deeper part of you
is not convinced by the panic.

You know that one?

You’re getting wound up —
but some part of you
is calmly watching it happen,
and not buying into it.

So you’re experiencing
your resolution
at the same time
as your entanglement.

Don’t judge that.

That’s part of the process.

Don’t try to become Santosh.

Santosh
is just where everything
returns.

If you need to get angry with somebody,
you can do that from Santosh
just so you know.
Yeah?

Divine anger.

 (But please — don’t use it as an excuse.)

“Oh yes, deeply I was in my place.
When I beat you up,
I was actually perfectly calm.”

It’s not that.

It’s more like —
in Santosh,
Life is fully available
to do what it needs to do,
however it needs to do it.

But it’s not
psychologically driven.
It doesn’t come from there.

That’s why
it’s wise not to judge.

I always tell the story of the Master —
with a student
who, for whatever reason,
needed a good dressing down.

And the student watching this —
who was actually the apprentice,
the guru in the making, if you like —
was watching his Master
very closely.

And the Master went over
and was giving this guy absolute hell.

The apprentice called it fury.
He was unleashing
a storm on the student.

And of course,
the apprentice is thinking,
“What is this?
Has he lost the plot?”

He’s supposed to be full of Santosha —
and he’s giving this guy hell?

And then he notices —
every so often, while doing this,
the Master glances at him...
and winks.

Then carries on.

Lays into the student again —
then looks across,
winks again,
almost smiling.

And then when it’s all over —
It was like nothing happened.

The apprentice watches the whole thing,
and suddenly realises:

He was actually
in service of the student.

He was being guided
from within
to unleash that storm —
because of where the student was headed
without it.

Do you see?

Now —
I’m not giving permission for this!

But not everything
is as it seems.

That’s all.

You can honour Santosh —
and still do
what has to be done.

It’s not:
“Oh everything is fine.”

Sometimes
it’s bloody not fine, right?

And you can say so.
From Santosh.

It’s not like ignorance prevails
and you just turn a blind eye
to everything.

That’s false Santosh.

Only you know
the basis of yourself.

Only you know
where you are inside.

Whether you’re in
that deep peace,
that spirit,
that presence —
or not.

From there you can act.

Love you so much.
So happy we’re all here.

Namaste.

Comments

  1. Am so grateful to read these blogs, I love them, i find them so enriching and perfectly aligning, such a deep support thank you 🙏🏼❤️

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