My first teaching experiences took place in a horse barn. We practiced yoga and meditation on a concrete floor, stalls on either side of us, facing an 18-ft garage door which opened to a beautiful, expansive meadow. We threw the door wide open in the spring, summer, and fall to capture the stunning vista, enjoy random wildlife, and revel in the fresh air.
One summer eve, the meadow freshly cut, a stronger than usual Oklahoma breeze provided much-needed relief from the heat. Halfway into the practice, a student broke from Trikonasana. I watched as she plucked something from her leg, walked to the barn’s edge, and gently blew something from her fingertip. There was no fanfare, no drama. With a smile and a shrug, she simply said “Tick” as she returned to her mat and resumed her practice. Not long after, another student let out a shriek and picked a tick off her yoga mat. She walked over to the edge of the barn, where concrete meets grassy meadow, and located a rock. Placing the arachnid on the concrete, she beat mercilessly until it was “good ‘n dead” (her words). She tossed the rock into the meadow, brushed off her hands, returned to her mat and, with great triumph, dove into Warrior I alongside the rest of her classmates.
This story always brings back fond memories of our time spent in the barn. It also opens up lively dialogue around the topic of ahimsa, yoga’s first code of conduct. Non-harming, or non-violence, is the foundational principle upon which we build our entire practice, off our mats as well as on. The late, great B.K.S. Iyengar put it like this:
“The yogi believes that to kill or to destroy a thing or being is to insult its Creator… He believes that every creature has as much right to live as he has.” (Light on Yoga)
We could leave it at that, but ahimsa requires more. We’re encouraged to prevent harm, to remove harm, and to fearlessly go forth and do good by protecting others. It’s a call to radical love. I have no idea what environmental value ticks bring to the table, nor how they contribute to the greater good. But in the spirit of yoga, can I keep my mind as flexible as my body? Perhaps what they say here in the Bible belt is true: All God’s creatures got a place in the choir.
And that’s pretty radical.
