The Space of No Words Required

The other day, after having worked, been on the phone, and continued in the social whirl of the holidays, the thought sprung up in my mind that I wanted to “go to the place of no words.”  It felt absolutely essential that I go into the space of deep meditation.  It was not so much for escape, as for rest.  For me, meditation can provide more of an opportunity for my mind to rest and renew than can sleep.  I rarely have dreamless sleep, and when I am very busy, my dreams get more so.  My meditations, like everyone’s, can be full of thoughts and words.  Thoughts will inevitably arise.  What is different in meditation, though, is that even when my mind is full of thoughts, I know I do not have to follow them.  I can just let them be — as if there were some radio or television program on that I just allow to be on, but to which I do not give my attention.  It is this rest from paying attention, from having to follow and direct thought that I wanted so that when I returned to active thought there would be more clarity, discrimination, and, where needed, detachment.

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    When a Student Asks a Question (and Tensegrity)

    When a student asks a question and I do not know the answer, I do not try to answer it then and there.  I do go home and take the time to try and find an answer.  If I find enough information to be useful, I follow up.  Last night, before the William Penn House class, a student asked whether I had received a recent mass e-mailing from John Friend in which he mentioned teaching about biotensegrity.  I knew the answer to whether I had received the email–yes, a friend had forwarded it.  I did not know, though, how John was using the term biotensegrity.  I went and did a little research.

    Buckminster Fuller coined the word “tensegrity”as the conjunction of tension and integration.  The idea of tensegrity is being actively taught by anatomy teacher Tom Myers, a student of both Buckminster Fuller and Ida Rolf and a teacher of certain of my yoga teachers.  It also bears a trademark when called “Carlos Castenada tensegrity.”    I never got into the “magical passes” of Castenada’s students turned teachers, but at some point relatively recently found a used copy of “Magical Passes.”  As I had delved fairly deeply into Carlos Castenada in my youth, I picked up the book and made it part of my library, though did not read it at the time.

    I am not surprised that John is talking about biotensegrity.  From my few hours of reading, it seems resonant with the “universal principles of alignment” that were the foundation of his Anusara teachings and also consistent with his movement towards the exploration and teaching of “sacred geometry” near the end of his Anusara days.

    Yes, I know I haven’t actually said what is tensegrity or biotensegrity in the yoga/body awareness and movement context.  But I do not teach unless I have learned something well enough to integrate it fully into mind and body such that I can articulate it in my own words, and I have not thought enough about the term tensegrity as it relates to yoga practice, though the concept makes initial intuitive sense.  If the links inspire interest, I invite you to look more deeply.  And I’m going to put “Magical Passes” on my stack of reading, though not necessarily at the top.

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    Another Self-Induced India Photo Flashback (Roadside Temples)

    Another self-induced India photo flashback after a long work day reading and writing at the computer with breaks only for shoveling snow and for eating and cleaning up.

    We were traveling on the bus when I saw the Durga temple (the fifth photo–the one with the white glare and flat sky, but an incredible Durga).  I suggested to my seatmate that he take a picture with his better camera.  I recall it quite reasonably and correctly being pointed out to me the flat, white heat of the midday, humid sky and the glare off of the window would make it impossible optimally to show the intricacy and vividness of the temple.

    I snapped a picture anyway.  I was seeing things at angles coming and going and with whatever the light was at the moment.  I likely wasn’t ever going to be there again and certainly not any time soon.

    Sometimes the bus would pause in just the right place for a perfectly composed shot, but mostly it didn’t.  In this, the act of taking these photos was much like other aspects of life and practice.  Our path is not always certain.  Sometimes it is hard to see because there is too little light or too much.  Sometimes we have something obscuring our vision.  Sometimes we are going too fast and only notice just before it would be too late for that turning.

    But even with vision turned or obscured, we are always experiencing something.  How can we make the best of each moment of experience?  For me, it is meditating and bringing the spacious awareness of meditation to what I am witnessing.  Taking photographs helps me witness in a certain way, too.

    roadside temple 1a roadside temple 1b roadside temple 1c roadside temple 1d roadside temple 1e roadside temple 1f roadside temple 1g roadside temple 1h roadside temple 1i roadside temple 1j roadside temple 1k roadside temple 1l

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    What If? (an Invitation)

    What if for a whole day you did every single thing with the intention of becoming blissful? If you have them, taking care of pets or kids or elders? Every thing that you did at work? How you went from one place to another? Every morsel of food and drink you selected, prepared, and ate? All your errands? Your getting dressed and undressed? Your correspondence?

    Would you even need to “practice yoga” by doing postures or meditating if you were living yoga–fully unifying the day to day with the conscious intention of experiencing the full bliss of consciousness at every moment?

    Why not try it for a day and see what happens? And then let us know.

One Comment

  1. A Rumi poem:

    Out beyond ideas of rightdoing and wrongdoing
    There is a field; I’ll meet you there.

    When the soul lies down in that grass,
    The world is too full to talk about.
    Ideas, language, even the phrase “each other,” Don’t make sense.

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