Through withdrawal of the senses, you deepen your capacity to meditate.
In yoga, the fifth limb, or fifth rung, is the withdrawal of the senses.
When chatting about this limb, known as pratyahara (pruh-tyah-hahr-uh), with two friends over dinner the other night they asked:
Does this mean I do not get to eat the chocolate croissant?
My partner and I laughed.
When people learn about the school of yoga that we both teach, they become quite skeptical about the idea of withdrawing the senses.
To withdraw your focus of attention from the outside world to the inside world does not mean that you give up all delicious foods.
It can mean that you are not as negatively impacted by events outside of your control.
Recently I traveled with my partner and family to Progreso, a lovely oceanside town on the mainland in the Yucatan.
We stayed at an Airbnb, where the property management was clear that we locked the doors every time we left as she believed people could break into the house.
She put lots of fear into the situation, beyond simply providing tactical advice.
This laid a groundwork for concern and sensitivity towards the surrounding street and park, which hung about in everyone's minds for the next few days.
One night, a group of drunk people were chatting outside of the front of the house.
Then, some concerning sounds began to come from them.
I could not tell you exactly what the sounds were, but the three of us still sitting at the dinner table late into the evening became concerned.
We looked at one another.
The group decided to migrate off our street corner, and we became calm.
Now, our senses were heightened. The fear effectively planted by our gracious host had us vetting each weird sound:
Is it a concern? Are they trying to come in?
With our attention turned outwards, we all jumped in surprise when a loud, modified car tore its way down the street.
We were stressed out. The game we were playing came to a halt. My partner and the other family member at the table began to talk in German about what was happening.
I turned my attention inward and observed. Elevated heart rate. Shallow breath. Scattered mind.
Yeah, I was disturbed by what was happening.
I focused on my breath.
Exhaling completely to reset.
Breathing deeply in through the nose into my belly.
Pausing briefly at the top of the inhale before letting out a slow exhale.
Four or five cycles into this, another even louder car came ripping down the street.
I watched the others at the table jump in response.
It was loud, but I was not impacted the same way that previous loud car noises had affected me.
This is pratyahara, the withdrawal of the senses.
Only when I turned my attention inward, was I able to concentrate.
As a benefit, I gained a greater sense of calm when a disturbing external event happened.
The breath is a powerful tool because it is always here.
I forget I have it.
Often when I need it the most.