Similar Posts
- Asana, Pranayama, and Yoga Practice | Food for the Mind (Yoga Philosophy, etc) | Meditation | Photos
What Do You See?
What do you see when you walk down the street or into a room? Do you see more or less depending on whether the surroundings are new to you or familiar? John Friend has said that when leading a class teachers need to be able simultaneously to see the whole room (and how everything and the students are in relationship to each other in the room), each student as a part of the whole and as a whole person, and the individual alignment of each student.
What it takes to do this is the ability to be completely soft, spacious, and open in our seeing (“open to grace”) and also well enough educated and experienced to appreciate and understand the details. I think that when we can see both the big picture and the details simultaneously, we have the greatest opportunity to experience the most of life, are more likely to be able to look for the good, and to make the most positive changes.
Cherry Blossoms
When I ventured out into the streets yesterday morning to get some air, greet some neighbors, and get some fresh vegetables if possible, I saw that a very large branch had come off of a cherry tree a block from my house. I have lived in my house long enough to have watched the tree grow from a three-foot sapling to a tree that has swollen past the confines of its row house corner yard. The branch that broke off in the snow was four or five times the size of the sapling when it was first planted. I spent an hour walking and then made sure I went back to the tree. It was starting to bud. It was warm last month, and it’s getting lighter every day. I don’t have high confidence that the buds were far enough along to force blossoms. I thought I’d give it a try. Whether I see blossoms early or not, I can use the branches to stake young herbs in another 7-10 weeks.
The Fisherman and His Nets

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.
An Opportunity
Watching traffic blocked, standing hands over ears having to wait to cross the street as an ambulance races in an emergency gives us the opportunity to b grateful that this time it is not for us and also that the emergency workers are there if we need them (so long as we can remember them in our societal budget priorities). It is also an opportunity to respond from the highest, to be reminded to offer love and healing instead of responding with annoyance at the minor disruption in our path.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.





