The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali

Let It Settle

Get a glass of water.
Drop in a little dirt.
Now stir it, stir it, stir it.

See how cloudy it gets?
You can’t see through it now.

That’s how a big feeling works.
When you’re mad, the inside of you stirs up.
When you’re sad, it stirs up too.
Everything goes cloudy.
It’s hard to see, hard to think.

So what do you do?

You don’t shake the glass more.
You don’t pour the water out.
You set the glass down.
And you wait.

Say it with me: let it settle.

Watch the glass.
Slowly, the dirt floats down.
Down, down, all the way down.
And the water turns clear again.
You didn’t push it.
You just let it settle.

Your feeling can do that too.
The mad can stay as long as it needs.
You don’t have to make it go away.
You set yourself down, like the glass.
You take a slow breath.
And you wait, and you wait.

Little by little, the cloud sinks.
The water inside you goes clear.
And now you can see again.

When you feel all stirred up,
here is what you can do.

Set it down. Take a breath. Let it settle.

A note for the grown-up

For the grown-up reading aloud: This is the founding idea of the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali (compiled around 400 CE): yoga is the settling of the mind’s restless movement, reached through steady practice and letting go. The glass of muddy water is our picture, not the text’s. The fence to keep in mind: the goal is not to make the feeling disappear or to tell a child not to be upset. The water clears by being let alone, not by being emptied, so the feeling is welcome, and the only active thing the child does is set down, breathe, and wait. If your child wants to talk about the feeling while it settles, that’s part of the settling, not a detour.

Yay for You

Your friend gets a shiny new bike.
Your tummy feels a little twisty.
Why not me? says the twisty feeling.

That feeling is okay.
Everybody gets it sometimes.

But here is something to try.
Look at your friend’s big smile.
Say it out loud.
Yay for you!

Say it with me: yay for you!

Something good can happen.
The twisty feeling gets smaller.
Sometimes it takes a little while.
Your friend smiles back at you.
Now there are two happy faces.

What if your friend is sad?
Maybe they fell and scraped a knee.
You don’t say yay for that.
You sit close by.
You say, I’m sorry. Are you okay?
That’s kind.
And kind feels calm inside you, too.

Happy friend? Yay for you!
Sad friend? I’m right here.

Next time someone has a happy day,
look at their smile.
Take a breath.
And you say it:
yay for you!

A note for the grown-up

For the grown-up reading aloud: This comes from Book I, sutra 33, which names four attitudes that settle the mind: friendliness toward the happy, compassion for the suffering, gladness at the good, and even-mindedness toward wrongdoing. This primer teaches the first two. The fence: jealousy isn’t forbidden or shameful; the child notices the twisty feeling and still says the glad words, and the feeling may not shrink right away. The sutra’s promise is about the child’s own calm, not about making the friend behave any particular way.

The Seesaw

Have you played on a seesaw?
You sit on one end.
Your friend sits on the other.
The heavy side sits on the ground.
The light side goes up in the air.

Your inside can be like a seesaw.

Sometimes a mean thought sits on one end.
I want to grab that truck.
I want to push her.
Bump! The mean side is heavy.

Here is a trick.
Put weight on the other side.

Say it with me: the other side!

Mean thought says, grab the truck.
Other side says, ask for a turn.
Mean thought says, push.
Other side says, use my words.

The mean thought can still be there.
You don’t have to pretend it’s gone.
You just put more on the kind side.
Then the kind side gets heavy.
It sits on the ground.
The mean side floats up, up, up.

Some days the mean side is very heavy.
That’s okay.
You can ask a grown-up to help.
Two people make a side heavier.

Next time a mean thought sits down,
find the other side.
Put your weight there.
Then do the kind thing.

A note for the grown-up

For the grown-up reading aloud: This comes from Book II, sutra 33: when a harmful thought arises, cultivate its opposite. Charles Johnston’s 1912 English pictures it as throwing weight on the opposite side, which is where the seesaw comes from. The fence: the mean thought isn’t shameful and doesn’t have to be denied or wrestled away; the child adds weight to the kind side and acts from there, and a grown-up can help when it’s heavy.