Tapas

“The pain you feel today is the strength you feel tomorrow. For every challenge encountered there is an opportunity for growth.” - Cherokee quote

When European explorers and naturalists such as John Muir experienced the lush wilderness of places like Yosemite and the Appalachian forests, they marveled at what they described as the pristine beauty of these stunning landscapes. Settlers and naturalists alike assumed that the wilderness they encountered, rich in diversity with majestic trees and old growth forests, had been untouched by human hands. What they did not know was that the landscapes they admired were not wild but had been intentionally cared for and cultivated for thousands of years by Native Americans.

Indigenous people were the original cultivators and caretakers of the verdant and breathtaking landscapes we now associate with many of our most treasured natural areas. Interestingly, the primary tool they used to care for nature was fire. Through practices known as “cultural burning”, they arranged small, controlled fires to promote the health of vegetation in a given area. These frequent fires were prescribed to reduce the buildup of overgrowth, debris, invasive plants, and an overpopulation of insects. Fires promoted renewal by returning nutrients to the soil and allowing sunlight to reach new growth. Importantly, these smaller fires acted as a natural clean up by getting rid of “junk” on forest floors that, when left to accumulate, became fuel for larger, more destructive fires.

Cultural burning is connected to the tribal belief that fire is medicine. Since indigenous people saw fire as having transformational properties, controlled burns were carefully prescribed in specific doses for the purpose of creating balance and renewed growth in natural areas. Such is the intention of tapas, the third of Patanjali’s niyamas. The word tapas is derived from the Sanskrit verb, “tap”, which means “to burn”, so this niyama is associated with the fire of intention and self-discipline. Like the cultural burns set by indigenous people, tapas invites us to burn away our impurities—the “junk” we have accumulated—so as to encourage and pave the way for new growth.

Because of its association with fire, tapas is frequently defined as “fiery determination”, implying that it requires a steely resolve accompanied by intense passion and focus. But there is a softer side to tapas, one associated with a sense of calm confidence that grows when we stay present, in the moment, even when it is uncomfortable, confusing, or painful. When coupled with a sense of calm, self-discipline becomes a controlled burn, allowing us to remain steady in the discomfort of transformation, remaining open to whatever changes lie ahead. Tapas teaches us to be fearless in the face of fire, confident of the growth that will come once the flames are extinguished.

How does tapas show up in our day-to-day life? We would be wise to take our cues from indigenous people as to how we practice this niyama. To these tribes, fire was a constant companion, a powerful catalyst that was essential to sustaining life. Cultural burns were carefully prescribed at specific times of the year and only when the overgrowth threatened the health of the ecosystem that supported the tribe. We, too, need to keep an eye on our overgrowth—the mental, emotional, and physical debris that throws our internal ecosystem off balance—to identify when we should light the fire of self-discipline and determination. The act of transformation takes considerable effort. The more “junk” we have, the larger the fire and the hotter the flame will burn. Tapas offers the wisdom to know when to ignite the fire, as well as the courage and determination to stay in the heat, allowing it to burn away our internal debris.

It is interesting to note that many of the extensive wildfires that occur today have ties to the European colonists’ disdain of controlled burns. Europe’s elites came to the states with the attitude that the use of fire was a mark of “primitivism”, one of many beliefs that were rooted in derogatory and dehumanizing attitudes toward Native Americans. The decimation of these tribes brought an end to cultural burning. Forests became overrun with debris and invasive plants that threw ecosystems out of balance, making them more vulnerable to devastating wildfires. Indigenous people knew what the European elites chose to ignore: fire is a potent catalyst that, when used properly, can help to maintain balance. To be transformed we must regularly expose ourselves to discomfort, knowing when to stay with the struggle rather than run from the challenge. By carefully using the controlled burn of tapas, we avoid becoming stagnant while building our capacity for resiliency and renewal.

There are several ways to practice tapas on the mat. Since yoga considers the navel area as the center of will and determination, a practice that engages the core is an effective way to build our capacity for tapas. But we also practice tapas when we approach poses that are challenging with an openness to whatever they may offer. We all have poses that we dread. “Boat” (Navasana) is my least favorite pose. After regularly practicing Navasana for over 15 years, I still struggle with it. My legs cramp and my shoulders tense while I wobble around on my tailbone. The only thing that has changed after all these years of practice is my attitude when I am in the pose. Rather than trying to force my body into the pose, I stay calm and maintain a lighthearted approach that keeps me open to whatever comes up while I flop around in the pose. Although Navasana may never be my favorite pose, I have learned a lot through my effort. Isn’t that, after all, the primary lesson of tapas in particular and yoga in general?

Although planks require significant engagement of the core musculature, side planks require additional recruitment from the stabilization muscles located along the sides of the body. Not only are they physically challenging, but side planks also test our balance and require considerable concentration, making them a perfect way to practice tapas. But don’t fret if your wrists and shoulders are sensitive, as we will focus on several side plank modifications. There is a big muscular leap from a modified side plank to a full side plank. In fact, the two poses are considerably different. This gap can leave many of us idling in a modified side plank, which may not feel particularly challenging, but without any intermediate option. These modifications provide two variations that are slightly more challenging than a modified side plank while helping us develop strength in the muscles that support a full side plank. These variations also take pressure off the wrists and shoulders.

I invite you to strive for a controlled burn rather than a wildfire. Ignite tapas by making a commitment to stay in the moment, cultivating the discipline to remain in a pose, wherever it takes you. Keep in mind that transformation unfolds in its own time, frequently changing us in ways that are unexpected. Tapas does not promise that we’ll get what we want, only that, once the fire burns out, we will have the capacity to start something new. Let’s practice tapas as a series of small fires, set intentionally to burn away our debris, all the “junk” that makes us stagnant. Make space to grow your lush inner landscape in which a healthier version of yourself has the space to flourish and, ultimately, thrive!