By Sat Purkh Kaur Khalsa
I prayed for a husband for a very long time. Then one day, I decided to stop praying for a husband and be happy—a very wise choice that I highly recommend to everyone (smile). Meanwhile, I began praying for grace around my personal sadhana. As a teacher and a trainer, I knew that I had to “get my act together” around my sadhana or I would lose any relevancy or legitimacy I might still have with my students and in my own practice.
I have always struggled with sadhana; and it was beginning to look like I always would. Some things come very easy to me—sadhana was never one of them—and the definition of sadhana is discipline, which has never been my strength either! So, I surrendered and began to ask for help. I began praying for grace and slowly, slowly, my personal sadhana began to grow. An 11 minute practice here, a 31- minute meditation there, little by little; but it was still not even approaching the Aquarian Sadhana that was given to us by the Master, Yogi Bhajan. So I continued to pray while also being grateful for the small shifts I was making.
Then one day, out of nowhere, my husband came into my life. And wouldn’t you know? He has a perfect sadhana. So now, nine times out of ten, I get up at 3:15 and make my way to group sadhana with him: Japji, kriya, Aquarian mantras and gurdwara—the whole shebang. I wish I could say it has changed my life, but I honestly don’t feel that different, unless you consider being exhausted all the time a transformation! But I know that others have noticed a change in me. And I feel the difference when I don’t do sadhana—and that’s probably the message for me.
Self-care has never been my strong suit. I’ve always resisted doing what was best for me; and no, I’m not going to beat that particular dead horse here. But the fact that I notice sadhana more when I don’t do it than when I do is telling and reminds me that I may not feel the difference when I do good things for myself, but I sure feel the difference when I don’t! And in this way, all of life becomes a sadhana of a sort—the sadhana of food, the sadhana of kindness, the sadhana of sleep, the sadhana of right livelihood, and the list goes on.
When I don’t participate in these sadhanas with some modicum of mindfulness and discipline, then the results of their absence range from mild irritability to excruciating personal pain. Still, much like the human body itself, I keep flowing in and out of balance in order to recognize the importance of these daily disciplines. Meanwhile, I just try to keep showing up, as often as I can, and allow sadhana to do what it does—make me better, whether I know it or not.
Sat Purkh Kaur Khalsa has been singing for as long as she can remember. Her music focuses on using sound to move the body, the mind and the breath toward powerful transformative experiences that uplift the individual and serve the soul.