Yoga Book Review: Yoga and the Quest for the True Self

An unexpected gem that I read unexpectedly: Stephen Cope's book about his journey deep into the yogic lifestyle as part of the Kripalu yoga community brought thoughtful reflections about both the physical and the more esoteric aspects of yoga practice.

The slightly dog-eared copy of the book I borrowed from the studio

A few months ago the Yoga Space studio in Horsforth launched a yoga teacher training programme, and with it came a small but very well selected studio library of yoga books. I was delighted as I'm a bit of a geek, love a good read and of course enjoy reading about yoga.

Whilst waiting for 1-1 sessions or generally hanging about to set up the studio for classes, I took the opportunity of studying several books on adjustments which gave me some lovely inspiration for assisting students in classes I was teaching at the time.

However, I realised that I was going to need to get brave and properly 'borrow' some of the more in depth yogic lifestyle stuff, so over a bank holiday weekend I signed out the copy of Yoga and the Quest for the True Self and sat down at home for a long read.

It's not about the poses.

It's pretty clear from the title that this book isn't going to be about how to perfect your bridge pose or get a better downward dog.

I was almost put off at the start when the author opens by describing what seems to be a middle class cliche. A pair outwardly successful thirty-something friends console one other about the emptiness of their lives over lasagne in the kitchen at a dinner party. I felt like it should have been the opening of a sitcom (maybe that's my British sense of humour...) rather than a 'serious' book about yoga, but I suppose that's the thing about cliches, they're cliche because they happen, they're familiar. And as a thirty something who has been through quite a lot of life upheaval myself in the past decade, I am also big enough to admit that it's relatable.

The author barely references his yoga practice before moving to the Kripalu community (simply saying that he and his close friend had both found refuge in regular classes) and whilst he lets us know that he had a committed posture practice throughout the entire period covered by the book (around 10 years) and became an instructor, he never lets us know anything really about what his posture practice or teaching was like from a practical point of view.

This could be quite bewildering really, if the reader was coming to the book from a western perspective where really all we practice is the postures and that's largely what's considered yoga. From my point of view, it was reassuring, as it was the 'other stuff' that I was interested in reading about...

A break in life leaves space for yoga.

I think we all have these dividing points in life where we can either consciously go off in a different direction or shove it down and mindlessly keep going and repeating the same mistakes.

A break up (the author's reason), finishing an all consuming project, being made redundant, serious illness, disillusionment with a career or realising you've ticked all the "life stuff" boxes but you hate every minute of the life you're living. You can either swallow the pain and pretend everything's fine or take a leap into the unknown, probably fuelled by terror, in which case it's likely terror of nothing changing. A bit like Sliding Doors but where Gwyneth also takes up meditation and wakes up to where her life isn't right rather than just catching the earlier tube.

Unlike in the movies, I do think we need to have some inkling that there is another way or another version of us "out there" waiting to be found. Stephen Cope describes this well; as a therapist he has plenty of anonymous client cases to draw on, and he makes good examples of Kripalu community members too (carefully making sure they are anonymised). These crises at dividing points in life give us the chance to find our spiritual outlook and continue to grow; a perspective that I found genuinely optimistic.

I'm not sure that many people come to a regular yoga class because they're actively looking to find their spiritual selves; but if, at the point at which they need to find it, their regular yoga class gives them a nudge in a helpful direction, I would be delighted.

The ashram and the guru.

Most modern yoga practice is "post-lineage", ie doesn't strictly adhere to a single teacher (any more) and may be spread out all over the globe rather than taking place in a single community setting. Really speaking, this has only happened since the time that Yoga and the Quest for the True Self was written, and the author details the fall of the "lineage" in the book.

I myself have known people who lived in ashrams and spiritual communities and come within a hair's breadth of joining one on a least one occasion. So I was quite curious to hear more about the experience of practicing yoga intensely in this type of environment.

Sadly, Stephen Cope doesn't say much about his relationship with the guru of his community, Amrit Desai, and to be honest he pretty much says the minimum about the scandal which forced Desai to resign from leading the community in the mid 90s. I'll concede that it's not the point of the book, but I was left with the impression that he didn't have much to do with the guru, whether this was really the case or not. Whilst the bhakti or devotional yoga of entirely giving one's self over to a more realised teacher is mentioned (and the spiritual dead ends that may emerge or spiritual bypassing that can occur as a result), I was a bit disappointed not to learn more about this intense type of yoga practice, given that it's unlikely to be something now that I ever get access to in today's western yoga milieux.

Refining awareness vs bearing reality.

I really appreciated the part of the book (part 3) where a great deal of care is spent describing how we can holistically use eastern meditation and spirituality methods, deep insight, refining our awareness and concentration, whilst also improving our mental health and sense of wellbeing.

As someone who has suffered with poor mental health, have friends who have cried off yogic and taoist practices as being 'not made for the western mind' and is also fully aware of some individuals suffering psychotic breaks following sudden, intense meditation or yoga practice, I've never had such a good explanation of what Stephen Cope calls the 'twin pillars' of practice as put down in this book.

I would therefore urge anyone who is looking to go deeper into yoga and meditation practice, especially for the purpose of long term mental health improvement, to read Yoga and the Quest for the True Self.

It's the combination not only of 'clear seeing' about ourselves, our lives and our situations (which we actively pursue in many ways in yoga, though particularly through silent mediation) but the capacity to abide calmly with ourselves (especially) when things get difficult (and we clearly see things we didn't expect or don't wish to see) that gives us the chance to grow. If we never see clearly, we can't change anything, but if we see clearly and freak out we may end up in a worse situation. If we can see clearly yet know that we can still be OK whilst processing this insight (which may also involve freaking out, just not to breaking point) then we have the opportunity to calmly respond to the insight and really make a change in ourselves.

I believe the main reason that Stephen Cope is so good at explaining how and why to build up the 'calm, abiding self' is because of his solid grounding and practice as a therapist ahead of becoming thoroughly experienced as a yogi. I can only hope that more teachers, especially in a meditation retreat environment, are able to confidently explain the twin pillars approach to new students in the way that this book does.

Primal energy and ecstatic movement.

Eventually we come back to posture practice. Given that I didn't pick up the book thinking that it would provide tips or insights into physical yoga practice, I was surprised to get a great deal from the short section of the book devoted to 'the divine dance'.

Cope explains that there are a number of traditions and threads, which, sometimes in a contradictory manner, make up the Kripalu ways of practice. Fascinated by yoga history and eastern practices, I was gripped by how he describes that these contradictions existing side by side just a totally different mind set to the way that us westerners seem to be compelled to compartmentalise and filter things down.

One of the key elements of this melting pot at Kripalu was ecstatic movement, surrendering to the prana, shakti or primal energy which then leads the body directly into postures and movements, rather that the usual way we go about asana practice.

Towards the start of the book, there is a description of Amrit Desai being known for moving into spontaneous postures during intense practice, sometimes in front of the community, but it's not until much later in the book that we get to grips with this.

The idea of spontaneous posture practice or "being lost in the dance of energy" appeals to me strongly for several reasons: firstly because as a yoga teacher I often feel like practice is very structured (night and day to the experience described here); secondly because I have experienced something like this when approaching practice in a more somatic or intuitive way; thirdly because I've experienced something like this when on the dancefloor and finally because it seems like a truly transformative, peak experience.

It's not the usual type of yoga posture practice that we do, but it is something that I can imagine many people experiencing, not least because I have had some type of this experience myself.

This has led me to seriously consider how and where I can bring further intuitive movement rather than just awareness of breath and direction of prana into the classes that I lead, whilst also continuing my personal practice down the route of somatic or spontaneous postures where possible- something I hope to build in a bit more time to work with.

There's something very freeing about this idea of physical practice that's not lead by the head or by convention, but by the connection with energy.

However, just as in the book the author makes a boundary for his friend to practice it safely, it also needs a safe container in our own lives because we want to be free from interruptions or inhibitions in the moment of practice and have the opportunity to reflect on this kind of practice with awe rather than self-consciousness or embarrassment. Thinking deeply about how to do this in a class environment would be a very valuable exercise for yoga teachers.

Conclusion.

I was surprised how much I enjoyed this book and how much I've taken away from it. There are a few great reflections not just for my personal practice but also pointers for my yoga teaching.

I think the book is 'of its time' in terms of approach to yoga in the west; the end of the guru and/or ashram era and the beginning of the post- lineage way of practice. This is a bit of a baleful reflection, as after the mid-90s there were countless new scandals about yoga leaders and gurus abusing their power over followers, including some of the leading lights of modern yoga (Pattabhi Jois, founder of Ashtanga, Yogi Bhajan, developer of modern Kundalini practice, and more recently Bikram Chaudhury, leader of the craze for hot yoga). The book is an insight into a way that we mostly no longer operate in western yoga, although I feel the description of it is somewhat incomplete, probably because of the fallout from its collapse.

Yoga and the Quest for the True Self is written well and complicated or seemingly esoteric yoga concepts are brought to life clearly and with insight by the author. I'd say that someone picking up the book as a newbie to yoga or yoga philosophy (given it's totally possible to practice asana without having been exposed to philosophy) might initially feel overwhelmed but if they were to persevere I think it would be due to the obvious knowledge and calm confidence of Stephen Cope's writing. He also provides a fantastic appendix on 'Yoga Metaphysics with a light touch', which I found very useful.

Picking this book up without a solid yoga practice and/or exposure to yoga history and philosophy might make it more of a vicarious insight into another world, very different from our daily life. It's worthwhile if you are nonetheless one of the people who wonders about that other way that might be "out there" waiting for you.

Picking up the book as a seasoned student of yoga, it might seem pretty cliche in places and give you a bit of ick if you've lived through the era of yoga scandals, but it might also just give you a few lightbulb moments and signposts that lead your practice off in useful, heartfelt directions.