Legend has it that the 19th century Indian reform leader and philosopher Dayananda Saraswati once snatched a corpse out of a river intent on proving, once and for all, whether chakras could be found inside the human body. After dissection revealed none of the esoteric anatomy intuited by the tantric-hatha yogins of the day, Dayananda flung his hatha yoga manual into the water, declaring meditation and Vedic scripture to be the only true yoga. Before we throw the proverbial yoga baby out with the river water, context is needed: Dayananda's mission was to replace colonialism and corruption in India with self-rule and civil rights. In this light, he thought the more cryptic aspects of the tantric-hatha practices as a distraction from the task at hand.
As we navigate today's turbulent pandemic seas, what will hold us intact as we find our way to safer shores? For sure, we all need Dayanada-minded tangible and scientifically-proven invaluables such as healthy food, warm and dry shelter, reliable internet, and masks to reduce the transmission of infection. But I also need a little poetry to go along with my science. The encouragement I feel when I see masks as symbols of care and respect for each other. The thrill of seeing real live images of my yoga students in their Zoom squares, our smiles mirroring the joy of personified digital connection. And my meditations that envision a three-hundred million strong cavalry of vaccine needles on their way to vanquish this raging virus.
A century and a half after Dayanada’s time, yoga helps us know the science from the poetry and the value of each at any given moment. After I'm gone from this life, you won't be able to dissect my body and find love, but I can guarantee it was there. Also undetectable, but no less real: memories of a striking sunset on the craggy Turkish hill of Mount Athena, the sweet smell of fresh cut grass in summers of my youth, the awestruck joy of holding newborn twins, and the simple pleasure of sipping hot tea on an icy cold morning in a winter when there was nowhere to go.
~ Annie Moyer
