What happens when your tires get stuck in the mud? I’m not talking about your 4×4 vehicle, but your body and soul vessel. Ever feel stuck in a rut? Uneasy with routine or maybe even full-on stagnant? I get it. Samskaras scratch at the dark recesses of each of our lives. 

I arrive at that point several times a year in different ways; in my personal practice, teaching practice, relationships, diet, and mindset.

Feeling stuck is not a highly desirable spot to be. It sucks my energy, brings me down, and is, in general, the ultimate buzzkill.

However, recognizing these repetitive patterns can prove a goldmine on life’s learning journey, so don’t despair.

Discovering that you are stuck in the first place is often the most challenging part of the work, the with-it-ness to tune in to that more profound piece of yourself.

Where do you find yourself easing into familiarity and comfort to a fault?

And how can you begin the process of one foot in front of the other, heading toward change?

This is key to continuing to feel challenged, fresh, creative, inspired, and innovative in life. In turn, we feel renewed confidence and independence. We reclaim our zest for living.

And let’s be honest, who doesn’t want to connect more with THAT feeling?

Samskaras are our “impressions.”

The scarred grooves of our being are finely softened over years of repetition like the wrinkles we earn over time.

What exactly are Samskaras?

Literally translated, samskara means “subliminal activator.” These are our triggers, routines, and the smack dab center of our comfort zone.

They are the force behind “oops, I did it again” and the ensuing self-loathing that inevitably seems to follow.

Samskaras don’t always have to be wrong, though. They’re the force behind our healthy routines and habits, too. It is when we:

  • See a yoga mat and feel the drive to begin asana;
  • Remember the breath;
  • Our body slips easily into a challenging pose based on years of repetitious practice and patterning.

In some cultures, we kiss on the cheek at hello, say “Buen provecho” or “Bon appetite” at meals, pray or meditate before bedtime.

These are all samskaras, too. But not the kind that works to dim our light or bring us down. Instead, these samskaras are subliminal activators working toward a deeper connection to well-being and bliss.

How do we initiate a change of direction away from our less-desired samskaras then?

And how do we get those tires pulled up out of the deep, comfortable tracks? I’m constantly asking myself this question.

I watch myself fall down the same slippery slope; my expectations are too high, and I spiral into disappointment. I bite off more than I can chew and then battle with the overwhelming sense of failure.

I let the “little stuff” affect me. It’s like being a silent participant in a slow-motion train wreck. I can’t stop it, and I am definitely a willing passenger.

But what happens when we decide that we’re no longer the passenger and that we are actually the driver?

We can reclaim our role in this whole process.

Stephen Cope describes this train wreck as a chain of separate events: appraisal, impulse, action.

It all happens so quickly in our minds that we often can’t distinguish even being in the chain of events until we’re already deep into the action phase.

By then, we’ve already made the nasty leap. We blur it all into one very messy cyclical drama with the end result being:

  • whoops! I ate the cookies…(again)
  • I let my anger get the best of me…again!
  • I stepped back into judgment…again!

Whoops, whoops, whoopsie-do! Now time to clean up the resulting mess of guilt and remorse.

In The Wisdom of Yoga, Cope describes the work of cognitive psychologists who can now scientifically map out this process. (Because we all love it when thousands of years of yogic study get backed by science, right?)

According to clinical studies, the entire process of appraisal, impulse, and action takes place in nanoseconds.

That means we have to rely on a “highly trained awareness” to intervene so that “action does not tumble inexorably out of reaction, like the falling of so many dominoes” (Cope, p.103).

Basically, we need to be really on the ball. Aware. With it. Mindful. And remember that everything we practice over time becomes more robust.

The asana, you know the one. We hated it but wriggled back into it time and again for some reason. Well, now it’s easy breezy, maybe even comfortable, when at first it felt sloppy, clumsy, undesirable.

The practice of gratitude began as a thought exercise and then became so routine that now we deeply, genuinely feel it daily; these are not accidental end results.

They are the ripe fruits of labor, practice, practice, and then some more practice.

Our minds organize our thoughts into predictable patterns.

With around 60,000 thoughts passing through on any given day, how else could we function efficiently?

We compartmentalize, we organize, and we make trails. It’s natural, and for our sanity, it’s necessary. These patterns are formed based on experience and deep conditioning throughout an entire lifetime.

Changing patterns cannot happen overnight. Imagine asking the Colorado River to change course and forge its way up and out of the Grand Canyon?

Yes, we have our work cut out for us. And a big part of this work (and a large part of the yogic strategy) is, to begin with, radical self-acceptance and observation without judgment.

The 7-step path:

Yoga teacher and psychologist Bo Forbes break down a pattern improving method into a seven-step path (From the article Stuck in a Rut):

  1. Sankalpa (Intention)
  2. Tapas (Intensity)
  3. Shani (Slowing)
  4. Vidya (Awareness)
  5. Abhaya (Fearlessness)
  6. Darshana (Vision)
  7. Abhyasa (Practice)

Remember that samskaras which are positive additions to our well-being, will not provoke agitation of our consciousness.

Tapping into our bliss helps us form more of these beneficial samskaras, which in turn help to further enhance our connection to bliss.

That doesn’t sound too bad, right?

Sum up

All in all, slow down. Try to step aside from judging yourself. Try, try again.

When you lose sight and find yourself in the passenger seat for a moment, remember you have the right and the power to be the one driving.

When finding our way up and out of the ruts we’ve forged our entire lives, we might be in for a bumpy ride. Buckle up! Hold on tight. And remember to breathe.