In yoga philosophy, the gunas are constantly fluctuating energies existent throughout the universe and therefore in each of us. These energies flow through all of nature and are inherent to our very state of being, influencing our reactions to everything and everyone around us. There are three constantly intertwining and changing components of the Gunas: tamas (inert), rajas (active), and sattva (harmony). These three parts work together confluently and drift back and forth, together and apart. How we react to any stimuli or experience depends on which energy force is more profound at that moment.
Tamas is the heavy, thick, grounded energy within us. It is a slow vibration. We react to stimuli with stillness, lethargy, and depression on the darker side of the spectrum. On the lighter side, tamas is where we find stability, deep reflection, and rest. In nature, the tamas would be organic matter decomposing as it settles back into the Earth, resting and slowly nourishing the soil to prepare it for new life. Tamas is the soft lullaby of the moon.
Rajas is the frenetic, passionate, fiery energy we carry. It moves at a fast vibration. This is the energy that feeds anxiety, agitation, multi-tasking, and overexertion. It also feeds motivation, enthusiasm, creativity, and movement. An example of rajas in nature would be the inertia of seeds germinating and springing forth from the soil, reaching for the bright morning sun.
Sattva is the calm, conscious space that balances the tamas and rajas. It is the space where we find truth and harmony in ourselves. Sattva is where our slow and fast energies meet in complement to each other. We need this balance in ourselves the same way the Earth needs the slow decomposing matter to nourish the soil so that very soil can bring forth new life, which will again become the soil. Sattva is the sun and the moon dancing in tandem, shrinking the winter days and stretching them out in the summertime, meeting reliably at equinox again and again.
It helps me to visualize the gunas as a seesaw with tamas and rajas sitting on either side. Sattva is the fulcrum or the centered balance point. The goal is to keep the seesaw flat but, maybe allow tamas and rajas to reach in and hold hands, play, and interact in a gentle fluid dance. The rise and fall of each side of the seesaw depend on the strength or weight of each energy and the forces that exhaust or enliven those energies. Sometimes the seesaw moves slowly and peacefully. Other times, tamas or rajas compete for control and push too hard off the ground. One energy might gain more strength than the other so, the seesaw stays at full tilt. Fortunately, the fulcrum can only accommodate this movement so far, as it stops one side before the other can go flying infinitely, out to space.
I’ve been exploring different ways to slow my seesaw and bring its balance closer to the center. Stretching, diet, sleep, and self-care all help maintain a sattvic balance. That can feel like an overwhelming list sometimes though. My yoga therapist suggested I begin simply with breathing. The yogic practice of regulating one’s breath is called pranayama. Prana, in Sanskrit, means life energy and, Yama means control. Focusing on the movement of one’s breath and practicing intentional inhales and exhales can be equally calming or energizing.
A series of slow, soothing breaths helps balance the rajas. My personal favorite is alternate nostril breathing when I’m anxious, unfocused, or in a hurry. I close my right nostril gently with my right thumb as I breathe out and back in through my left nostril. Then, with either my middle or ring finger of the same hand, I close the left nostril as I release my thumb to breathe out and in with the right nostril. I take turns breathing out and in on each side. Even just a few breaths slowly bring my insides to a calm place.
Likewise, when I feel overwhelmed by grief or heaviness I might try a Kapalabhati – skull-shining breath – which includes inhaling slowly and deeply and then letting out the exhale in short rapid pulses. This is a vitalizing, energizing breath that helps to balance the heavy, slow tamas energy. Breathing doesn’t resolve grief or sadness, but it does help me find space around these feelings and release their control.
With physical yoga practice, also called Asana, one finds balance through focused posture and movement. This doesn’t necessarily mean I have to attend an entire yoga class to benefit from asana practice. Asana can be as simple as stopping where I am, at the moment, and doing a Sun Salutation to wake up my rajas a bit or curling into a Child’s Pose to calm it down.
Meditation is another useful tool for balancing the gunas. I’ve been practicing metta or loving-kindness, meditation lately, meaning that I meditate on my own worthiness of love, kindness, health, and happiness. Then I focus my intentions on that same benevolence toward other people, some who I love purely and others against whom I harbor resentment. Using this incredible meditative tool, I can see myself as a complete being, every bit as deserving of love as I believe anybody else is; as the very earth is worthy. If I love and cherish the Earth, then I have to love and cherish myself because I am of the Earth just as any part of my body is of me. This knowledge is centering and encourages sattva because it is realized in purity and truth.
These energetic forces constantly function and fluctuate within us and in the context of our relationships with other people and nature. I’m finding that the better I understand and acknowledge the truth, love, and light in me, the more I can control my seesaw and connection with the Earth. I envision my tamas and rajas, each having both feet on the ground, swaying up and down ever so gently from tip-toe back to heel, up to tip-toe, back down, never leaving the Earth of which I am part.
Finding my own balance, sattva is an offering of peace to the Earth. The turbulent energetic forces of imbalance are not mine alone to carry. I am in mother nature. She is in me. She is the cycle of life and I am part of that cycle. Inward and outward I breathe; balance in me, balance in all beings, balance in mother nature.
