Rising Above Our Patterns: The Melt and Grow Process of Cid Rasa
Ch. 2 • Rising Above Our Patterns: The Melt and Grow Process of Cid Rasa
The Intersection of Interoception and Reality: Yogic and Scientific Insights
In our previous chapter, we explored the concept of interoception, which is the ability of our nervous system to perceive its internal state. This encompasses basic bodily functions such as sensing hunger, thirst, or the urge to use the restroom. More profoundly, research reveals that interoception also influences critical executive functions including self-awareness, emotion-guided social behavior, and regulation of the sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems. Highly developed interoception enhances external capabilities such as problem-solving, empathy, understanding complex social scenarios, cognitive flexibility, and intuitiveness.
Numerous studies have linked strong interoceptive abilities with various positive outcomes, including higher self-esteem, healthier eating habits, faster recovery from injuries, reduced pain, and lower levels of depression and anxiety. In yogic texts, this capacity for self-reflection is encapsulated by the term 'swadhyaya' and is considered a fundamental principle of yoga. It aligns with the inward focus of 'vimarsha' in Kashmir Shaivism, which is said to initiate, sustain, and dissolve the universe itself. Swami Muktananda regards this inward turn as the essence of all spiritual practice.
We have noted a correlation between our nervous system's structure and this inward focus, with significantly more neurons devoted to sensory input than to motor output. This suggests a biological emphasis on internal sensitivity. A nod in the direction of Swami Rudrananda’s Golden Ratio— increased internal focus leads to more skillful external interactions and growth.
Our nervous system processes sensory inputs through peripheral sensory neurons, which are then cognized by the central nervous system to produce a corresponding action via motor neurons. This mirrors the 'ABCs of resilience': an external activating event is processed based on internal structures, resulting in a motor output or consequence.
The yogic tradition describes the mind similarly. According to the teachings of Kashmir Shaivism, the mind has two primary aspects: the lower mind and the higher mind. The lower mind, or manas, takes in sensory information and organizes this material through pattern recognition, known as the ahamkara or ego. This process occurs almost automatically, much like how a phone camera captures visual information and recognizes faces to focus on. The higher mind, called buddhi or intellect, discerns this information and acts upon it. A strong buddhi is akin to a scientifically rational mind, enabling us to make healthy choices that lead to beneficial consequences.
When we operate on autopilot, relying solely on our lower mind and patterns, our actions are less rational (as science would say) or less conscious (as yoga would say), leading to less healthy outcomes. Thus, being able to feel your present circumstances, to stay in touch with feeling is crucial if we want to rise above our autopilot mind and patterns. This chapter builds on the premise that all actions originate internally; and our ability to stay consciously connected to our internal sense of self and reality is the key to making the best choices that help us rise above our inner tensions and experience our highest potential. This inward gaze is not merely a component of our practice but the very inspiration for our reality. Next, I'll share a story demonstrating the profound neurological basis of this truth.
The Foundation of Movement is Sensation
In 1971, Ian Waterman, a butcher in England, experienced a life-altering event after cutting himself at work. This minor injury was followed by a severe loss of bodily sensation that led to him physically collapsing and being taken to the hospital. In the hospital, Ian felt as though he was floating, unable to sense the bed beneath him, and medical professionals struggled to diagnose his condition. It is now understood that a fever triggered an autoimmune response that destroyed all his sensory nerves below the neck, eliminating his ability to feel—his proprioception. Proprioception, derived from Latin, essentially means to grasp oneself, an ability so fundamental that we are usually unaware of it. For instance, the simple act of touching your nose with your eyes closed became impossible for Ian.
What was so utterly surprising what that because Ian had lost his sensory neurons, and had thus lost his ability to feel, he had lost his ability also to move— illustrating the crucial link between sensory input and motor activity! His condition wasn’t due to lost motor functions, brain injuries, or physical incapacitation of limbs, but a loss of sensory neurons. This loss of internal sensation meant that no external actions could be initiated. In essence, his external world ceased to exist because his internal sensory world had vanished.
Ian Waterman's unfortunate story illustrates a profound truth: feeling is foundational to movement. In our routine lives, we often navigate automatically, disconnected from the sensory experiences of our actions, as the description of the lower mind and my earlier story about the reclined twist illustrated. Unconscious movements led me to injury, and you could say that all unconscious movement which is driven by habituated patterns confines us within the metaphorical hospital bed of our ingrained behaviors.
True movement—movement that fosters resilience and growth—is performed consciously. This means being fully present and attuned to the sensations accompanying each action. Such conscious movement allows us to engage fully with the world, integrating our physical actions with our sensory perceptions. And this was exactly how Ian Waterman taught himself to move again.
While in his hospital bed, Ian practiced seeing a sequence of movements in his mind— trying to visualize moving his hand or foot, and soon sometimes the appropriate muscle would even twitch. After enough of this practice he was even able to sit up in bed! If Ian could think and see his movement he could move— and eventually he was even able to walk, to use body language while talking. Ian had to participate fully present with every movement just to do it, and his experience can prove to us the essential quality of inner focus in creating authentic movement. By emphasizing exercises that focus on the internal sensations of movement, we can ensure that our actions are not merely repetitions of familiar patterns but are conscious choices that liberate us from those constraints.
We have to re-learn how to move by re-learning how to feel— we have to feel as we move. Our habitual movements are strong, though, and so we must use our time on the mat to literally melt our habits, and then regrow our movement consciously, over and over and over again. This is a challenging path, not because its physically hard, but because it takes a lot of surrender, a lot of repetition. But this ongoing process of melting and reforming shapes not only facilitates healthier physical expressions but also mirrors the profound philosophical teachings found in Kashmir Shaivism.
Cid-rasa: The Rhythmic Pulse of Creation and Dissolution
In the Pratybijnahridayam, a seminal text of Kashmir Shaivism, the universe is described as the manifestation of Cid-rasa, the dynamic flowing essence of Awareness. “[All of Manifestation] is simply the crystallization into form of the dynamic flowing essence of Awareness (cid-rasa).”This essence crystallizes into form, then melts back into fluid energy, continuously assuming new forms in a rhythmic dance of creation and dissolution. Build a movement, then let it dissolve, build it again, then dissolve it again. According to the yogic tradition this is not just a suggestion, but the very path of manifestation occurring within us constantly.
As Christopher Wallace’s comments in his translation of the text, “All of [manifestation is said] to be the coagulation, or crystallization, or thickening into form (aśyānatā) of the rasa, or dynamic flowing essence, of Awareness. In this evocative image, Kṣemarāja pictures divine Awareness as a flowing liquid that congeals into solid form (like a sap that crystallizes) and then melts once again, dissolving its form into the dynamism of pure energy, only to assume yet another form, and another, in an endless series. He sees the whole universe as the enactment of this rhythmic pulse (spanda), as interrelated patterns of the freezing and melting of the endless unimpeded flow of the power of Awareness, delighting in its ability to assume ever-new forms and relinquish them again.”
According to yogic teachings, the process of movement and growth is not just about physical motions but is deeply intertwined with our spiritual expansion. Kundalini energy, which rests coiled at the base of the spine, does not awaken abruptly but unfolds gradually through repeated, mindful engagement of our awareness. This concept mirrors the exercise of 'Melt and Grow,' where forms dissolve and are consciously recreated, fostering a dynamic, continuous transformation.
The awakening of this profound energy requires a gentle and persistent exploration of awareness. As described in the Shiva Sutras, awakening the kundalini is not a forceful act but a delicate cultivation of heightened consciousness and awareness. The sutras emphasize the importance of maintaining a focused, one-pointedness of the heart, engaging in a rhythmic process of introducing sparks of awareness, allowing each to fade before introducing the next. This continuous cycle—inserting and fading sparks of awareness—mirrors the physical practice of melting and reforming, embodying the philosophical depth of our practice.
“This goddess cannot be awakened with force. She can only be awakened by supreme I consciousness filled with supreme awareness. To awaken her, the yogī has to churn their point of one-pointedness in the heart, without break, again and again… They must churn it by inserting sparks of awareness, one after another, again and again, in unbroken continuation.”
This passage illustrates the essential nature of our practice: a continuous, mindful engagement with our deepest self, fostering a transformative journey not just on the mat but in every aspect of our lives.
The Cid Rasa Practice: ‘Melting and Growing’
In the "Melt and Grow" exercise, each practitioner begins by entering a posture as usual, with an assumption that there are blind spots within the form that we are unable to see or feel. Recognizing this, we actively melt the posture, a process facilitated by a slow, deliberate exhalation that encourages a universal release throughout the body. This melting phase helps uncover hidden tensions and overlooked spaces within the posture.
From this melted, released state, we then begin to grow the posture back into form. This growth is driven by natural breaths that allow us to direct our awareness inside our body to previously unnoticed areas, essentially illuminating and growing the posture from the inside out. With each inhalation, we aim to fill and enliven every part of our being, fostering a more holistic engagement with the posture.
Once the posture is re-established, we don’t hold onto it rigidly but instead prepare to release it again. This cyclic process of melting and growing allows us to continuously refine and deepen our practice. Each cycle sheds light on new facets of the posture and ourselves, promoting a more profound and conscious expression of each pose.
This method requires careful attention to the body's responses, using the repeated focus on internal awareness as a guide to gauge the needed intensity—be it deeper engagement or a gentler approach. The practice of melting and growing not only enhances physical flexibility and strength but also deepens our mental and spiritual resilience by fostering an ongoing inner dialogue of renewal and discovery on the mat. This dynamic engagement ensures that our yoga practice remains a true path of growth and transformation.