On the Way to William Penn House for Tuesday Night Yoga Practice


Those of you who have been attending my classes for the past couple of weeks already know that my overall theme for the fall session is cultivating a sense of wonder (abhuta). Feeling wonder is one aspect of the Anusara principle of “opening to grace.” It is seeing who we are and what we are within space and time with a sense of amazement at the limitations and the foibles, as well as the strengths and delights.
This week I was thinking about abhuta in the context of samskara — the markings or grooves or scars in our being from how we have lived our lives (and perhaps past lives, if those were also lived by us — personally not sure about that). I had a dialogue earlier this week that resulted from over 110 years of combined history that was not optimal. Reflecting on the precipitating factors, though, and marveling at the web of history, environment, education, and action that combined to give rise to the conversation led me to a sense of wonder indeed. It is by cultivating the ability to step back and appreciate the wondrousness of the dance that we learn from a steady practice that, I think, can help make it possible to shift in how we behave and react to things.
From a physical perspective, most of our challenges and difficulties are based on what we have done with and in our bodies over the course of our lives. We use the yoga alignment principles to create new grooves and to shift from the old repetitive patterns, so that we can not only alleviate pain and misalignment, but to expand the possibility of discovering ever more joy and wonder in and through our bodies and senses. Both the physical and meditation practices help us shift similar patterns (dissolve and transform samscaras and their impact), so that instead of deepening old grooves, we erase or dissolve them and create new life-enhancing ones.
It may seem odd to marvel at our stuff, especially when it does not appear to be serving us, but keep in mind that both the awesome and the awful, being both all about awe, can give rise to a recognition of the great and exquisite mysteries of being.
I am aware that jet fuel and car gasoline from my travels is something I should consider every time I go. I try to travel by train when I can, or by bus, but I also consider my need to get out of my current environment, to connect with people and places and language that are not that to which I’m habituated, especially in these divisive times.
I hired a shared car to take me from the airport to Taos and then from Taos to Santa Fe–having no other choice than but renting a car for myself to get to the location of the retreat, but took the train from Santa Fe to Albuquerque on my way back home. It was convenient and a pleasant ride.

A member of a text group of hyper local neighbors sent a text with a “rainbow alert,” as a fierce thunderstorm was coming to an end.
I was already watching and photographing. Another neighbor sent a photo of an enormous tree limb that had just fallen to the sidewalk due to the storm. Fortunately, no one was hurt.
