What do they mean by “God?”
Do they mean anyone’s “God” or just the signwriting collective’s “God?”
Do they extend the wishes of their notion of “God” only to those who believe in the same “God” or is this just meant to convey undifferentiated wishes of auspiciousness and love to all?
Inquiring minds want to know.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
A number of years ago, I attended a week-long workshop with Rod Stryker. He invited us to meditate on absolute stillness — cara sthira — meditation. Sitting comfortably, still the skin, the muscles, the bones. Draw the attention to stillness. The breath and heart will still move, but the concentration is on stillness rather than on any movement. Rod Stryker discussed the next day the challenges of this meditation, especially for those who are intellectual, who enjoy being active in the mind. I found it difficult at the time and even dreamed about the issues the meditation brought up for me. Meditating on stillness can be very challenging in a way that meditating on a mantra or the breath would not necessarily be.
I believe the origin of the meditation comes from the principle of sthira being the absolute unmovable, the essence of being (not dissimilar to Kant’s unmoved mover). We invoke pure stillness, pure potential out of which movement comes because that is part of our essence and a place where we can rest our spirit. See, for example, the Srimadbhagavatam.
I discovered absolute joy in this meditation a couple of years after I learned it. I was suffering from a severe sinus infection and bronchitis simultaneously; I joked that I was fine as long as I didn’t breath through either my mouth or my nose. In the midst of my suffering, I remembered the teaching. For a few days I stayed in the meditation for hours at a time. I found the place where I did not really need the breath. Enough came to survive, but I forgot about wondering how to breath or finding a place for it or my struggles with it. In the stillness, there was space and peace and supreme bliss. Ever since then, I have chosen this form of meditation when I have a cold, a sinus infection, or other challenges with breathing. Meditating on the breath, obviously, will not be soothing when breathing is a struggle. But when even breathing is a struggle, peace can be found in complete stillness.
Tonight I will teach my last class at CHY’s current space after having taught nearly every Wednesday night for 5 1/2 years. I am deeply grateful to Marianna, Leyla, and Julie for having pulled together the community and continued yoga in the space when Dancing Heart moved, and to Stacey for joining them and keeping the fire brightly burning. I feel deeply fortunate for having been given the opportunity to teach at CHY while I went through my teacher training. I am also deeply thankful to all my CHY level 2 students who went through the Anusara certification process with me; the class that led to my ultimate certification was taught at CHY on the 10th anniversary of Anusara yoga.
I extend my gratitude to all the students who were with me on this path of expansion, exploration, and delight and who have taught me so much and shared of their hearts.
Although I feel a profound sense of loss with the Stanton Park studio closing — how will I know when to end class without Wilbur the dog letting me know it is time to end savasana? — I look on this as an opportunity for the community to coalesce in new ways, and for each of us to deepen the community and our practices. I regard all of you at CHY as my friends, as well as students and neighbors, and look forward to seeing you in yoga classes on the Hill in new spaces and at other events in the neighborhood.
E
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