| |

Memorial Day (and service)

ByElizabeth

Hanuman, the monkey god, is one who reminds us to serve.  When Hanuman was a kid, he was rather full of himself.  That was not surprising, really, as he had wonderful and magical powers of strength and agility.  When he got too audacious playing with his powers against the bigger gods, he was cursed to be able to remember his powers only when he was serving with true love and devotion.  When he was serving Ram and Sita, then, the full force of his powers were available to him to help in their dilemma. (Yes, this is a rather creative summation).

Some of my strongest memories from childhood were observing my father when he was providing draft counseling for those conscripted to fight in the Vietnam War.  My father did not talk on the phone because it was tapped, but we heard a lot of conversations about whether to be a soldier, be a conscientious objector, find a basis for deferral, or otherwise protest or avoid the draft.  Although I was raised to think that war did not serve humanity (though my parents engaged in debates about whether all wars were bad, discussing the difference between fighting against Hitler and fighting in Vietnam), I was also raised to believe strongly that we all have a duty to serve.  I meet many in the military here in Washington, DC.  What I find is that those who have chosen military life have a strong sense of service.  Even if I do not believe in most of the basis of the service (just as I don’t hold much truck with whom Sita was expected to be and the basis of the battles in the Ramayana — more on that some other time perhaps), I respect that those who were conscripted and felt they had no alternative or those who chose to be in the military put their lives on the line to serve.

I try to think of Memorial Day as honoring those who have served and not, as I did when I was younger, dismiss it because it was more societal indoctrination to perpetuate the war machine.  When Natalie and Joe Miller invited those at Willow Street to join them in service by helping to clean up part of Long Branch Creek, I signed up.  I appreciated their way of making it easy both to honor peace (by helping the environment) and those who have served (by ourselves serving).  We will be taking our yoga of the mat and into the world with a morning of seva— selfless service.

Similar Posts

  • | | |

    The Exquisiteness of Order (Winter Theme)

    ByElizabeth

    By order, I mean how things are arranged in space or time.  Even chaos theory presumes order in that sense.  On and off the mat, there is a certain order to things that is optimal.  We do not plant seeds and then till the soil.  Or think of the difference between peeling and chopping vegetables and then cooking them or cooking them and then peeling and chopping them.  One or the other is not necessarily wrong if you do not have a specific dish in mind, but which you choose will dictate the results. Once you have gotten started in the sequence, though, the path shifts and is partly set.  To reach an exquisite rather than a disgusting result, the next steps are ordered by the initial choice.

    If only one musician is playing a single note, then there is no possibility of discordance.  Add more musicians and more notes and who plays what notes when can mean cacophony, a catchy tune, or an extraordinary and ecstatic work of art.  None of us are alone and none of us are playing just a single note, so in the great fabric of our being, it is best to understand how to make music.

    Sequencing on the mat is more subtle than what poses should be done in what order in a particular practice to emphasize backbends v. forward bends and twists to be able to do the strongest poses with the least possibility of injury, as important as that is.  The order in which we apply the Anusara principles not only aligns the physical body, but brings symmetry to the physical and energetic bodies, helping us to feel more in harmony in everything we do on and off the mat.  I am, in this, a decent musician and not Bach, but the more I pay attention to the optimal sequence of things (keeping in mind that over most things we have no control as to when, whether, and how they happen) and the more I learn and appreciate the exquisiteness of order, the more I feel, understand, and experience the subtleties and joys of harmony.

  • | |

    The Fisherman and His Nets

    ByElizabeth

    dorothy

    Earlier this week, I took a wonderful class with my friend J, who is an Anusara teacher based in NYC.  She started class telling a story of a fisherman.  The fisherman had worked hard and long during the spring, summer, and fall and was looking forward to a rest during the winter months.  He left his boat and went ashore, looking for shelter.  He came upon a brightly lit house and was invited in by a friendly host.  He was given a delicious meal and then brought to a beautiful bedroom with a fabulously made, soft bed with exquisitely scented linens.  He got into the bed, but tossed and turned and could not sleep.  Agitated by his inability to sleep, he left the house, went back to his boat, wrapped himself in his fishy-smelling nets and promptly fell sound asleep.

    J interpreted the story as saying that our familiar patterns bind us and keep us from discovering and receiving true beauty and bliss.  This interpretation resonated with the students; one called out in a conversation about the quantity of nets we have, that she could alphabetize hers, and we all laughed.  I heard something different in the story, though perhaps it was because I had seen part of The Wizard of Oz when channel-surfing in my hotel room the night before.  What I heard was that when we accept our work and our place, we find a place of true rest.  When the fisherman realized that his place was on his boat — at home with his work, instead of seeking ethereal bliss — then he found peace and true rest (“there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home…”)

    What is missing from the movie version of The Wizard of Oz, though, is that in later books, Dorothy goes back to the land of Oz, bringing her family and work (albeit that of a child) with her.  She, in effect, integrates the importance of prosaic home and work life with being in a land of enchantment.  In that, both interpretations of the story of the fisherman are partly true.  We need not to let our old habits bind us, but we also need not to cast off work, home, and community as things that interfere with our discovering bliss.  Instead, we need to find enchantment in our very being, as we live and work and relate in this world.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.