Similar Posts

  • | | | |

    Health Care Crisis in Progress

    ByElizabeth

    At “Taste of DC” here come (not in any particular order):

    1.  Respiratory diseases from air pollution resulting from cooking methods, factory farmed meat, manufacture of packaging, and food transportation.

    2.  Antibiotic resistance from factory farmed meat.

    3.  Diabetes from refined sugar and carbohydrates.

    4.  Cancer from food additives, food cooking methods, manufacture of plastic food packaging, and air pollution.

    5.  Heart disease from fatty and high cholesterol foods.

    5.  Foot, ankle, knee, and back problems from ill-fitting high heels with a narrow toe box.

    6.  Tooth decay from refined sugars and carbohydrates and later gum disease and heart conditions from poor dental hygiene.

    6.  Waterborne diseases from air and water pollution secondary to food manufacturing and packaging and attendant waste and unnecessary medication, surgeries, and other medical treatments for illnesses resulting from food and clothing choices.

    And don’t forget lost productivity for sick time.  I do not think anyone needs to be rigidly any kind of diet all the time (not raw, not Ayurvedic, not vegetarian, not vegan, not local, not slow), but wouldn’t it be nicer to eat well most of the time (and if you have even the most modest of kitchens, healthy meals are in fact cheaper than packaged junk food–assuming one knows how to cook, which I know is a big assumption), wear comfortable clothing, and have more time, strength and money  for creative and loving pursuits?

     

     

     

  • | | | |

    Two Temptations of Maya

    ByElizabeth

    In classical yoga, maya is the illusion that the tangible world is what is real.  Only atman is real; the world we experience through our senses (and our senses them selves) as reality is an illusion.  We renounce the world to escape the temptation of being drawn into it as reality.  In so doing, though, we ineluctably must come to the conclusion that all that is ill with the world is as much an illusion as that which is tempting.  In turning away from the world we would be also turning away from the pain of seeing inequity and suffering and the desire to seek change in the tangible, sense-experienced world.

    As I was walking around New York City, ankle-deep in slush and being hyper-stimulated by the lights and the noise and the smells and the bustle and the choices, I found myself thinking about maya and that in its classical sense has two surface temptations for me.  The first is the temptation to turn away from the stimulation, to reject consumption of more than needed to exist.  In the face of such excessive stimulation, the idea of nothing, of utter simplicity, of quiet seems desirable.  If the turning away is another form of seeking pleasure or escaping pain, though, it is still in the trap of maya — the worldly illusion that binds us in the pair of opposites–pleasure and pain.  The second temptation, the temptation to withdraw from everything except seeking the light within, is more subtle.  If we truly are to turn away from the world of the senses, we turn away from notions of justice and equality and freedom that are based how we live in the material world as much as we turn away from consumption.

    The true path of renunciation, of pure meditation, is a rare and beautiful path, but to stay in the world and to withdraw ineffectually in such a way might earn the hackneyed epithet “navel gazing.”  My path is not that of the renunciate yogin, nor do I have the fortitude to live a life of Christian poverty, which would reject riches and live for service.  Where can we find the support in the yoga path to stay engaged and yet still live mindfully, fostering the expression and recognition of spirit in ourselves and others?

    In tantric philosophy, maya is understood somewhat differently than in classical yoga.  The maya is not the world itself.  When we think that getting and having and avoiding is all that there is and that it is separate from spirit, then  our lives are cloaked by maya, and we are ignorant (avidya) of the true bliss of spirit (satcitananda).  To know spirit, we must see through maya.  To do that requires discrimination (viveka) in what we take into our senses and ethically responsible action in the tangible world to align our lives in a way that expands the opportunity to recognize spirit, which in my mind includes having less material disparity in society, which disparity most assuredly makes the essential truth of blissful consciousness more opaque (due to the play of maya) for both the haves and the have nots.  While we make our attempt to live with more discrimination and grace and with less cause of conflict or suffering (doing better some times than others), we still try to recognize and savor the exquisite divine in each sight and taste and sound and creation.  How extraordinary always is New York in all its wild manifestation!

  • | | | | |

    The Murtis Rearranged Themselves Again

    ByElizabeth

    murtis

    It’s an idiosyncratic grouping, but it is my weaving of stories for the moment.

    I believe the brass dish under the cactus on the left was a wedding present, though I am not absolutely certain of that.  It was a long time ago.

    The cloth with the tassels came from a shaman in Peru; I was there for 9/11.

    I bought the gray scarf when I was in Costa Rica on a retreat with John Friend from a world-traveling fellow yoga practitioner who had brought an array of beautiful scarves to Costa Rica from Thailand.

    Other things were brought home from India–mostly by me, but one a treasured gift from a friend.

    The porcupine quills were also an inspired and loving gift.

    The square of marble under the cactus on the right I found on the street in the neighborhood.  The cactii came from a yard sale over a decade ago.  They were being sold for only blooming once a year.

    The bit of mother of pearl comes from Centerport beach on Long Island. I went there last fall the day before my father’s memorial service.

    Other things came from vendors at Eastern Market and one from New York City.

    The chestnut is from Stanton Park. I picked it up on my way to work one beautiful day last year.

    The heart-shaped stone came from Arizona when I was on a meditation retreat some time late in the last decade.  I’ve been to some really lovely places on this planet.

    The mala Kuan Yin is wearing I strung and designed:  rudraksha beads from my first meditation mala (which had broken), labradorite, and emeralds on silk thread.

    The jet beads belonged to my grandmother Rose.

    There’s a story about the lump of black and red rock behind Ganesha, but I think I’ll leave that for another day.

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.