The New York subway system is a pretty phenomenal thing. Especially to this Colorado yogi who's not too fond of driving. With 665 miles of track, 8,200 train trips per weekday, and millions of riders every day,* it's an incredibly complex organism. When it's running well, it's a thing of true beauty. With the swipe of my MetroCard, I have access to pretty much all of NYC, and I never have to lift a finger or a foot to make it go or stop. I can just sit and read a book! (And I've read several in my two and a half months here.) I don't have to worry about what'll happen when the check engine light comes on, or when I'll have to get gas next, or just how fast that oil leak is dripping. Frankly, I'm a little bit in love with the subway. But, for all it's glory, the subway is not immune to that virus of all transportation: traffic jams and disruptions.

 

Last week I moved to my new sublet in Washington Heights, but I was still working in Queens. For those who don't know NYC geography, the two are 7-8 miles apart as the crow flies, which translates to a 45-60 minute commute via train (a minimum of two trains, actually). Comparing the commute timewise to back home in Colorado, it's similar to the time it takes to get from the northern edge of Colorado Springs to downtown Denver. And--as I learned all too well last week--the two have about the same potential for including stop-and-go traffic. (By the end of the weekend, I'd spent nearly 4 extra hours on stalled trains--or on platforms waiting for said stopped train to arrive.)

 

Last Friday was one of the worst traffic jams I had yet to experience. As I sat in the middle of my second 20-minute stretch of my train not moving, I was also sitting on the edge of some mounting frustration. The day before I'd managed to make it to the same location in about 45 minutes. At that point, it'd already been 45 minutes, and I hadn't even made it two stops. I still had 25 minutes until my work shift started (I'm no fool, I knew that my 45 minute commute the day before had been really lucky, so I'd still left extra time), but there was no way I would make it on time.

 

My fellow passengers were also feeling the pressure of the passing time. The air was growing thick with vented frustrations.

"I want my money back," one woman kept angrily grumbling.

"They must be stupid! What are they doing?" another passenger cursed.

There were some other--stronger--phrases going around as well, which don't need to be repeated. No one was happy with the situation. It was an easy opportunity to sink into bitterness and anger about something I had no control over and could not change.

 

But that was just it: I had no control over it. I couldn't make the train move or stop, just like you can't magically part the waters when there's stop-and-go traffic on the Interstate. My frustration or anger would do nothing to resolve the situation. They'd just make me miserable. The thing I did have control over was my mood. I could choose to suffer and be angry, or I could choose to surrender to the situation and be content to sit, wait, and read my book.

 

In the study of yoga, we learn about the yamas and niyamas. There are five of each, and these ten ideas are gentle guidelines by which to live our lives. The yamas give us social restraints (like non-violence and honesty), and the niyamas provide us with personal observances (like cleanliness, self-discipline, and devotion). While I could find a way to apply almost all of the yamas and niyamas to my situation sitting on a delayed train, it was the second niyama that was my main focus: santosha.

 

Santosha translates as "completely content with." It's a lesson in gracefully accepting what is. It teaches us that in any situation, we get to choose how we react and that our chosen reaction can lead us to suffering or to happiness. Rather than allowing our annoyances, disappointments, grievances, etc to bring us down, we can practice santosha and choose to find contentment in the situation. In her book True Yoga, Jamie Lee says it beautifully: "We cultivate Santosha by seeing things in a positive light and seeking a reason to be happy rather than defending why we should be unhappy."**

 

Sitting stuck in train traffic was the perfect chance to do just that. Rather than focusing on how late I was going to be, I chose to enjoy the extra time I'd been given to read. I chose to be grateful for the fact that I was warm and dry on a train rather than standing outside in the chilly rain. I could smile at the passengers around me, even as they griped and groaned. I even found humor in some of their complaints. Later, when I ditched one train to walk the breadth of Harlem in order to catch a different (and hopefully moving) train, I practiced being content with walking. It had stopped raining. I was getting extra exercise. What was there to be cranky about? Even when the puddle I walked into turned out to be shin-deep: at least I had on waterproof boots!

 

The yoga sutra on santosha says "The result of contentment is total happiness."*** And that's true. The more we chose to be content and allow ourselves to not be negatively affected by circumstances outside of our control, the happier our lives can be. It seems almost obvious: the more we chose to be happy, the happier we'll be!

 

It might be easier said than done, but by picking just one situation a day and choosing to be happy about it instead of upset or annoyed, we can slowly build a happier life for ourselves. With each choice, contentment slowly becomes a habit. Happiness becomes our lifestyle.

 

*Check out http://web.mta.info/nyct/facts/ffsubway.htm for some more awesome facts about the Metropolitan Transportation Authority (MTA).

**Lee, Jaime. True Yoga. Page 105.

***Yoga sutra 2.42. Translation of the Yoga Sutras by T.K.V. Desikachar in The Heart of Yoga. Page 179.