You may think that I am going to talk about becoming a swami, but I’m not. If you want to know that story, then look back through previous podcast to “What it means to be a swami and the journey I took to become one.” Today I’m going to talk about who I am as a person, approaching 70 years of age, and share some of my life challenges that shaped my life.

When we have life challenges, especially as a child, they form what we call “samskaras” in yoga. Samskaras are patterns of thinking and behaving that become quite automatic, because they are buried in the subconscious and unconscious mind. We may not realize how these samskaras continue to exert their influence over the years. We may remember the challenge we faced, but we often think, “well this thing happened, but it happened when I was a child and now I’m grown and I’ve put it behind me.” It’s not that simple. It has actually created a neurological pathway where the mental energy flows without awareness when presented with any similar situation. Depending on its strength, the subconscious mind might even be looking for the opportunity to release that flow of mental energy because it is conditioning and familiarity. It reinforces who we are.

When I was eight years old, I had several changes in my home and school life. My only brother went away to college and my only sister got married. Because my brother was going to a private college, my mother took on a fulltime job to help pay his tuition. I suddenly became somewhat of an only child who walked home from school to find an empty house with a list of chores to do until my parents came home. At a very early age, I learned how to make dinner, iron clothing and clean the house.

I lived in a rural area in an extremely small village of less than a hundred people. Doing the chores didn’t really bother me so much because there really weren’t very many other kids to play with anyway. Besides my cousin, a boy, there was another girl that would sometimes agree to play with me if I didn’t tell anyone. You see I was the subject of bullying at school and this girl didn’t want others to think she was my friend.

How this happened was that when I was in second grade, it was decided that I should skip ahead and finish the year in third grade. I was big for my age and quite smart. I was not consulted about this decision that I recall. So, I ended up doing two grades in one academic year.

The problem was, in this rural school, each grade had about 20 kids with all 12 grades in one building. There was no chance for anonymity. It seemed like I was suddenly an outcast. The kids who were in the lower grade didn’t want to be my friends anymore, and the kids in the new grade began to ridicule me calling me a baby. This got worse as I continued to excel in my academic performance.

I remember the one girl whose mother was a schoolteacher in the same building decided to lead the campaign against me. And because her mother was a teacher at the school, kids were eager to follow her lead because she was what we called, the teacher’s pet.

Now it’s important to remember this was around 1959. Bullying was up close and personal, not through social media. I remember being taunted on the playground nearly every day during recess. One day it was so bad that I went to the restroom and locked the door to the stall and pulled my feet up and hid rather than go back to class where others would see that I had been crying.

Over then next several years, I continued to be subjected to bullying. I remember decorating brown lunch bags to hang on the chalk tray for other students to put in those silly little valentines on Valentine’s Day. I don’t remember getting a single one. I was rarely invited to anyone’s birthday party.

I didn’t know how to deal with my feelings. When I would try to talk to my mom, she would say, “oh don’t worry they are just jealous of you.” What was wrong with me? Why wasn’t I liked?

Then in seventh grade we moved to another state and I entered a new school. No one knew me or my history. I started to make some friends. And I worked hard at it. I learned how to subjugate a lot of my feelings to be able to please others. I even learned to make fun of myself before anyone else could even think of doing so. I learned how to put on a really good front and never let anyone see my pain. I held at bay all of the resentment that had been building for years and tried to convince others that I was like them! And that I was worth liking!

But deep inside was this nasty old samskara of doubt, of resentment, of envy. And again, and again it played out. I was always amazed when someone liked me and wanted to spend time with me. I didn’t really like me, so why did they?

Over the next several decades, I became driven. If I accomplished enough I would feel good about myself. Right? I graduated from nursing school at the age of 20, got accepted into anesthesia training at 21, and became an instructor in the anesthesia program at 25. I got married and divorced by 23. I did open heart anesthesia and started pre-med, working and studying, living on 5 hours sleep.

Then at age 29, I burned out. On a whim, I signed up for an adventure travel expedition in India and Nepal even though I’d never slept in a tent in my life! The trip was five weeks. First, we rode camels through the desert of India, then bicycled from the Taj Mahal to Delhi. We flew to Nepal and went trekking in the mountains, river rafting, and then rode elephants through the Chitwan National Park. It was amazing! And I did it all!

It was on about the third day riding a camel in the desert that I suddenly had an insight. I realized that I was indeed riding a camel in the desert of India and that all of those people back home were still there doing what they do, being who they are, and they would never change. I realized that I was riding a camel in the desert of India and that I had made that choice and that I could make the choice to be whoever I wanted to be.

All of those years of trying to be what I thought others wanted me to be. All those years when I felt like I didn’t fit in. I was riding a camel through the desert of India and I realized I could be different.

Now because patterns of behavior are hard to change, it took more than that one insight to do so. I spent the next decade alternating between “trying to be normal” and then canning that idea and going off to travel, at one point living in Nepal for nearly 2 years.

Patterns of behavior are hard to change, like I said, and eventually I threw away the idea of “being normal” for the last time. I left the well-paid profession of anesthesia and opened the no pay profession of owning a yoga center!

And it was through my study and practice and teaching of yoga that I began to see that my patterns of behavior were not only hard to change, but they would continue to hold there grip on my psyche until I did enough studying and practicing and teaching of yoga to see them for what they are. They are me. They are my personality. These samskaras, these patterns of trying to please everyone, or working endlessly to feel worthy, to push my feelings down so as not to appear vulnerable – they were still there even though the work, the setting and the names had been changed. Because people are people, regardless of place or age.

What I have learned, just these last few years is that my samskaras are me and I have to accept them and even embrace them, forgive them and then gradually release them by replacing them with more positive ones.

What I have learned, just these last few years is that I am a good human being, worthy of love, worthy of friends, worthy of taking time away from work for self-care. I’m freely admit I’m not perfect, but I am trying to be my more authentic self, and that person is okay.

If someone doesn’t like me, or if they act against me, that doesn’t say anything about me or who I am. It’s about who they are. They are being held captive by their own patterns of behavior. I forgive them and move forward.

In two months, I will be 70. It’s taken my whole life to feel truly comfortable in my skin. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I still have my moments! There are still flashes of those samskaras that rear their ugly heads, but now I am aware of then and see them for what they are. Old patterns. Not the patterns that will determine my path going forward.

I’m so grateful for all of the good and bad experiences in my life and that I have reached this point of being who I am.

I hope you will reach out to me if you have felt moved by this story. I would be honored to help you identify and overcome your patterns through yoga.