Who am I beyond the stories I carry?
This week in our yoga classes, we’re exploring the different aspects of the mind and the stories we carry about ourselves.
During our asana practice, we explore philosophical idea through movement, breath, meditation and stillness. Our philosophy circle on Wednesday evenings offers a chance to go deeper into each aspect of philosophy we meet in class. There is space to ask questions, share experiences and explore how these teachings relate to ordinary life.
This week, our question is: who am I beyond the stories I carry?
We all have ways of describing ourselves. Some feel reassuring, giving us a sense of belonging or helping us understand our needs. Others can become restrictive.
“I’m not very confident.”
“I’m the one who holds everything together.”
“I’ve never been good at that.”
“I mustn’t let anyone down.”
A description may begin with something that happened. Over time, it can become something we believe we are.
Four aspects of the mind
The teaching model we’re exploring this week describes four aspects of the mind: manas, ahaṃkāra, buddhi and chitta. These terms have different meanings across yogic traditions. Here, we’re following the model in which manas relates to memory, ahaṃkāra to identity, buddhi to intellect, and chitta to pure intelligence, free from memory and identification.
Manas carries memory. Previous experiences influence how we meet what is happening now. We remember sensations, words, familiar situations and what we have learned.
Ahaṃkāra gives experience a personal identity It brings in the sense of “I”, “me” and “mine”. An experience of finding something difficult can become “I’m someone who can’t do that”.
Buddhi is the intellect. It assesses, distinguishes and makes decisions. Yet our reasoning can also be influenced by the identities we hold. If we believe we are incapable, we may find plenty of reasons not to try.
Chitta, in this teaching, is intelligence unconditioned by memory and identity. It can be difficult to approach through explanation alone. In our practice, we can make space for quiet, without requiring a particular insight or experience.
These are ideas to explore through our own lives, rather than categories into which every thought must fit.
What a wobble can teach us
Imagine standing in a balancing posture.
You feel yourself wobble. Memory brings back other times you have lost your balance. Identity adds, “I’m terrible at this.” The intellect may then decide there is little point in continuing, or that you ought to try harder so nobody notices.
All this can happen within a few seconds.
But there is another possibility. You feel the wobble, recognise the familiar story and give yourself time to respond. Perhaps you place a hand on the wall. Perhaps you lower your foot. Perhaps you stay and discover that balance includes movement.
The physical experience is similar. The meaning you give it has changed.
This is one reason the mat can be such a useful place for enquiry. We can notice the moment when “This is difficult today” becomes “I am inadequate”.
Making room around identity
Our identities can be valuable. Understanding our history, temperament, health or neurodivergence may help us make sense of ourselves and ask for the support we need.
This enquiry doesn’t require us to abandon that understanding. It invites us to notice when a description becomes too small to hold the whole of our experience.
You might be a caring person who also needs care. You might experience anxiety and still have moments of courage. You might enjoy being capable and sometimes need help.
There is room for all of this.
A gentle question to carry through the week is:
Does this story help me understand myself, or does it limit what I allow myself to experience?
You could also notice the difference between saying “I am…” and “Sometimes I experience…”. The second phrase may leave a little more room to breathe.
Taking the enquiry into sangha
In our Wednesday evening philosophy circle last week, we explored where these stories come from, how they shape our attention and whether they still serve us.
These gatherings offer a chance to go deeper into the philosophy we touch on in our asana classes. There is no expectation to have studied yoga philosophy or to share anything personal. Listening is a way of participating too.
We finished with a meditation, allowing the work of describing ourselves to rest for a while. Feeling the support beneath the body. Allowing the breath to move. Leaving some space around the question of who we are.
Perhaps that is enough for one evening: to meet ourselves with curiosity, and allow the possibility that there is more yet to discover.
I still have spaces across my timetable this week, if you would like to join us.
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