Existentialism, yoga, and transition
In my yoga teacher training, I learned the word Vairagya. It can be roughly translated as renunciation, detachment from the pain and pleasure of the material world, or dispassion from worldly things. When I first heard of the idea, it reminded me of existentialism.
I heard the word existentialism much earlier in my life; with my temperament and experience, it was natural that I was drawn to it. As I grew older, however, I realized I had misunderstood it all the time. It is easier for a novice thinker, such as myself, to quickly conclude that the universe is indifferent and our life has no meaning. The way I see it now is that existentialism is about forging meaning from within the framework of mundane life, which at first glance may seem meaningless. At its core, existentialism is about determining one’s own meaning of life and committing to it.
It is with a similar attitude I approached the idea of Vairagya. Like existentialism, Vairagya is the very opposite of nihilism. It is not about the denial of the world, but a relinquishment of the need for the world to meet our expectations. When one stops reacting to the perceived rights and wrongs of the world, one may start to cultivate a robust inner life that harmonizes with one’s environment.
As I read on the topic of non-attachment, a seemingly paradoxical pattern emerges: some books teach me to shift my focus inward so that I may begin to enjoy the external; other books say I should turn my attention to the world so as to free myself from egocentrism. But if I think carefully, the paradox dissolves.
I experienced the phase of attachment most intensely during the years of my gender transition. My life came to a crossroads where I believed the only path to continue the living journey was to transition. I pursued the path with great intensity. Nine years from that decision, I could not be happier. It was one of the most important decisions of my life.
But the intensity and righteousness with which I pursued my goals is not sustainable, for it depended largely upon institutional support within a historical period. Such incredible fortune is not awarded to every transgender individual, and even for the same individual, this fortune can prove ephemeral. Amidst the cultural backlash and the withdrawal of institutional protections, it became crucial for me to develop my intrinsic strength.
My internal strength is a result of abiding in my center while the external world runs its course. The center, to me, is a state of quiet knowing; it is a result of experiencing life sincerely, with no expectations. In this state, womanhood is no longer a faraway destination, but a home from which I make departures, again and again, for various adventures of my life—and the home where I return to, by and by.
This realization came after spending a significant amount of my time proving my womanhood with intellect. In the current state of affairs, what saddens me the most is not the harsh policies, but the fights swirled around them. History may well correct the former, but the latter would leave a lasting impact on our unity as a whole. Here, my point is not about resignation, but this: In seeking an external and institutional permission for something intrinsic and personal, one may overlook one's own truth, which has been apparent in the first place. The truth is that no external force can stop one from embodying the feminine ideal. There are plenty of examples in history, such as in the quote by Viktor Frankl: "Forces beyond your control can take away everything you possess except one thing, your freedom to choose how you will respond to the situation."
I define womanhood as the embodiment of the eternal feminine, or in my very personal way—Ishvara Pranidhana (abiding in the Highest Self). It is the ideal of all-encompassing love—the very love that Jesus Christ preached and embodied. It is the unifying force that bridges us from self-interest to devotion, from self-pity to service, and ultimately from individuals to God. This is embedded in the motto E pluribus unum (From many, one). It is in abiding in my highest self that I draw strength—a strength not diminished by not being able to use women’s bathrooms.
The next step, according to what I learned from yoga philosophy and existentialism, is to relinquish the very identity of being a woman. As I have gradually dissolved the differences in physiology, I may seek to dissolve the difference in form. Femininity is not the end in itself, but the means by which I embody the love and tenderness I am drawn to throughout my life. No amount of gender markers on the passport can accurately describe the rich state of inner experience. In my own experience, striving led to resistance; in demanding everyone to honor my preferred gender, I created my biggest resistance—my ego-centric self. And once I let go of my rigid definitions of being a woman and simply surrender sincerely, I discovered with joy that I have become the person I have always admired, and that she naturally aligned with my feminine ideal.
I imagine this simple truth of committing and letting go works at a larger scale as well.