What Is This Moment Asking of Me?

Something happens.

Someone says something that disturbs us. An email arrives. A plan falls apart. A family member disappoints us. A colleague disagrees with us. We encounter suffering, injustice, confusion or simply an unexpected change in circumstances.

And almost immediately, the personality has an opinion about what should happen next.

I need to say something. I need to fix this. I need to defend myself. I need to make this person understand. I need to do something.

Sometimes action is indeed required. But before acting, Yoga Science suggests that we ask another question: What is this moment asking of me?

First, Be Here

The question sounds simple, but answering it requires considerable self-discipline and humility.

Why? Because the personality seldom approaches the present moment empty-handed.

It brings memories of what happened yesterday. It brings samskaras from the Unconscious Mind. It brings desires, fears, expectations, prejudices and habits. And almost instantaneously, it projects those impressions into an imagined future.

Before we know it, we may no longer be responding to the relationship that actually stands before us. We may be responding to yesterday—or to what we fear might happen tomorrow.

But the Conscience can only be consulted in the now.

This does not mean that we should ignore the past or refuse to plan for the future. Memory can provide valuable information, and thoughtful planning is often necessary.

But both remembering and planning take place in the present moment. And so does Yoga.

The Discipline of the Pause

When a relationship presents itself, the first requirement may not be action. It may be a pause. In that pause, we can become the Witness.

Anger may be present. Fear may be present. Desire may be present. An old habit may be demanding expression. But, as we explored in our previous question, none of these is necessarily who we are.

When we witness rather than automatically identify with what appears, we create a little space between stimulus and response.

That space is created through vairagya—detachment. And within that space, we can consult the Conscience: What’s to be done? What’s not to be done?

Only then are we prepared to understand what this moment may actually be asking of us.

Three Forces Are Always at Work

Yoga Science teaches that all relationships in the manifest world are influenced by three qualities of nature that can be understood as mental weather patterns. They are called the Gunas: Tamas, Rajas and Sattva.

We do not have to make the Gunas into an abstract philosophy. We can learn to recognize their influence in our own lives.

Tamas can manifest as inertia, lethargy and resistance. When action is required, tamas may whisper, Why bother? Let somebody else do it.

Rajas provides movement and energy. But when appropriated by the personality, selfish rajas can manifest as agitation, anger, ambition and the compulsion to control: I must do something. I must change this. I must win.

Yet that same rajasic energy can be transformed. Through self-discipline and discrimination, selfish rajas can become selfless rajas—the energy necessary for selfless service.

And then there is Sattva—clarity, harmony and balance. Surely there can be no danger there. Or can there?

Even sattva can be appropriated by the Ego. The personality can begin quietly congratulating itself:
Look how wise I have become.
Look how compassionate I am.
Look what a good spiritual student I am.

The trap has simply become more subtle.

Thinking of the Gunas as mental weather patterns can help us recognize why certain thoughts, emotions and impulses may appear so compellingly in consciousness at a particular moment. Just as weather influences the conditions in which an outdoor tennis match is played, the Gunas influence the conditions in which our relationships unfold.

But Yoga Science does not ask us merely to become better weather forecasters. Eventually, we are asked to go beyond all three Gunas.

As our Yoga Science practice deepens, our freedom need not depend upon whether the present mental weather is tamasic, rajasic or sattvic. Whatever conditions appear, we can increasingly remain the Witness, practice vairagya, consult the Conscience, sacrifice the preya, and serve the shreya.

The weather may influence the field of action. But it need not determine our action.

Who Is the Doer?

This brings us to one of the most challenging teachings of Yoga Science: We do nothing.

At first, that statement can sound absurd. Of course we do things. We work. We teach. We raise children. We care for others. We make decisions. We build organizations. We speak. We remain silent. We serve.

Sometimes enormous effort is required. So what could “We do nothing” possibly mean?

It does not mean passivity. It does not mean avoiding responsibility. It does not mean standing aside when the Conscience is telling us that action is required.

It means that, as Yoga Scientists, we experiment with relinquishing the personality’s claim to be the independent author of everything that occurs.

Karma brings us relationships. The Gunas influence the field. The Ego, Senses and Unconscious Mind provide their counsel.

We witness. We practice vairagya (detachment). We consult the Conscience. We summon willpower. We employ creativity. And then we serve the shreya and sacrifice the preya.

This is the paradox of inaction in action.

Much may be happening outwardly, while inwardly the Yoga Scientist practices surrendering both the fruit of the action and the egoic claim: “I am the doer.”

Selfless Service

This understanding changes the meaning of service. Selfless service is not determined by how dramatic our actions appear to others. We do not have to save the world. We do not even have to search for someplace to serve. We go nowhere.

Life continually brings the curriculum to us. The person sitting across the breakfast table is part of the curriculum.

So is the difficult colleague. So is the stranger who needs assistance. So is the task we would rather avoid. So is the thought that has just appeared in consciousness.

Each relationship asks something of us. Sometimes we are asked to speak. Sometimes to remain silent. Sometimes to act vigorously. Sometimes to wait. Sometimes to establish a boundary. Sometimes to apologize. Sometimes to sacrifice what the personality desperately wants.

And sometimes what the moment asks of us is simply: Do nothing yet. Remain present. Witness. Listen.

Creativity in Service

This is also why creativity is essential to the daily practice of Yoga Science. Yesterday’s answer may not serve today’s relationship. The Conscience may indicate the principle that is to be served, but creativity may be necessary to discover how that wisdom can find appropriate expression in this particular moment, with this particular person, under these particular circumstances.

This is where our familiar formula becomes intensely practical:
D = E + W + C Desire = Energy + Willpower + Creativity

When desire is examined and transformed through our Yoga Science practice, its energy need not be squandered in habitual reaction. Energy can be conserved. Willpower can be summoned. Creativity can become available.

And Inner Wisdom can increasingly find expression in thought, word and deed.

The Subtlest Temptation

But even after an action has served the highest and greatest good, one more temptation may remain.

The Ego may want credit. I handled that beautifully. I helped that person. I knew exactly what to do. I am becoming very wise.

Perhaps this is when the Yoga Scientist needs to smile. Because selfless service does not end when the action is completed. It deepens as we relinquish our claim upon the action and the outcome. 

Selfless service is not primarily defined by the grandeur of what is done. It is revealed by the diminishing claim of the doer.

And Then Comes the Next Relationship

There is no final circumstance we must arrange before we can practice Yoga Science. There is no perfect set of conditions we must wait for. And there is no need to search for some grand arena in which to demonstrate our spirituality. We simply begin where we are.

Karma will provide the next relationship. And the next. And the next.

Our responsibility is not to control the moment. Our responsibility is to be available to it. Available enough to remain present. Humble enough to witness before reacting. Disciplined enough to practice vairagya. Attentive enough to consult the Conscience. Courageous enough to sacrifice the preya. Willing enough to serve the shreya. And detached enough not to claim ownership of the result.

Then the question with which we began may gradually deepen.

At first we may ask: What should I do? With practice, another question becomes possible: What is this moment asking of me?

And as our Yoga Science practice deepens still further, perhaps even that question becomes quieter.

We simply become increasingly available to recognize what’s to be done and what’s not to be done—and to summon the energy, willpower and creativity necessary to serve it.

Not because the personality will receive applause. Not because we will become the person we imagine a spiritual aspirant ought to be. Not because we are trying to become the doer of great deeds. But because this relationship is here. This moment is here. And this is where we are called to serve.

That is what inaction in action begins to look like in everyday life.

The weather may change. The relationships certainly will. But the practice remains: Be present. Witness. Consult the Conscience. Serve the shreya. Relinquish the claim.

And then, when karma presents the next relationship, ask again: What Is This Moment Asking of Me?

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