Today, there were to be 1,000 artists at the inauguration. I saw a few of them on this weekend’s walkabout, and studied for a morning with a dancer and movement artist who was participating (David Lakein; contact improvisation workshop at Dance Exchange). The class was thought-provoking and suitable for the weekend honoring the inauguration. On the morning of the inauguration, we, after not having made any attempt to get tickets of whatever sort, ended up being invited in to the Koshland Science Museum for free hot chocolate and a comfortable place to view it on a big screen. Not quite the power of being huddled against the cold with hundreds of thousands of other people on the Mall, but still, not too shabby for a completely impromptu way to share the event with others.
I turned the corner
Glowing in the rain and wind
The earliest pink tree.
I do not do the poses as an end in themselves. I practice moving my body mindfully so that I can move as best serves my life. Among other things, I like to be sufficiently flexible and secure in my balance to maintain a vertical garden.
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.
