Be Here Now (Var.)


My first reaction when seeing young people go past my house without a mask, is to ask, where’s your mask? My second reaction may not be kind. I am trying to make a habit of thinking, may they be happy–starting in the middle of the litany.
That may be more about enlightened self-interest, than exercising true compassion, but it’s a start.

Perfect between work and Spanish class meal–brown rice and red lentil kitcheree made in the rice cooker. Garnished with chopped herbs from the garden–mint, coriander, fennel.

Instead of being able to walk into the office with the first thing scheduled a regular 10am conference call, this morning I have to be across town to appear on a panel discussion with the Director of my Office. This means I have to leave the house at least an hour earlier than I usually do. As I am heading into a more stressful workday than a typical one, skipping meditation and my morning walk would not be optimal.
I made sure I was out of bed the minute I got my wake-up call (currently Vedic chanting). It was the will to practice (the embodied, stepped down version of iccha shakti, which is the ultimate will to being) that got me into meditation cushion. It will be getting out of the house 20 minutes earlier that will give me the time to walk to a more distant bus or metro stop so that I feel invigorated and refreshed before the talk.
Sometimes we do not get into poses because we lack the will to do so. Keeping pelvic loop engaged requires will. Some people naturally love the feeling of keeping the buttocks engaged, the pelvic floor lifted, and the belly toned. Others (myself included) have to develop a keen sense of will to keep the lower torso engaged, to keep with and enhance the intensity of sensation and concentrated action. The more I practice, the more will I have to stay engaged because I have experienced that the challenge of staying intensely engaged is worth the lightness and freedom that ensues. For me, this is true in my yoga and meditation practice and in nearly everything else (which includes, sometimes, having the will to rest and relax).
When I was in eighth grade, my history teacher, Mr. B, assigned to the class engaging in a debate as to whether Rockefeller, Carnegie, and Mellon were philanthropists or robber barons. We were put in teams and told which side we had to argue. When we were given the assignment, I went to Mr. B privately and said it was not possible to argue one side or the other. These men were only able to be philanthropists at their level of giving because of the money they had made as robber barons. My teacher said that was an unacceptable position. I was to argue the position I was assigned, I was wrong that it was not an either or debate. I should understand that what was critical to this debate was which aspect was the elemental identifying characteristic.
Where I think was our real difference of opinion was that Mr. B thought that one could/should not recognize both enormous evil and enormous good in the same person. If one was evil, then the good was essentially irrelevant. If one had done tremendous good, then it should not matter if there was bad along the way. I tend to see the whole. I take the good where I find it (for example, I have found great truth and utility in the writings of Swamis Muktananda and Chidvilasananda although I would not recognize either as my “guru”), but do not expect the “bad” to be absent or non-coexistent with the “good” and tend to be outspoken in my recognition of both. I still sometimes get in trouble for this.
For the past week, I have had laryngitis. Obviously, this resulted in my being more selective about when I was going to speak and what I was going to say. Less obvious, was that the limitations on speaking led me to listen more carefully. Listening more carefully helped me choose what to say and when to speak. At a surface level, this did not change whether I was analyzing or judging. It just led me to be more discriminating. As I pondered this issue, though, I found myself wanted to listen more freely, to try and listen first without analysis, without judgment, without any anticipated response. This was, then, even a listening to my temporary limitation. Not judging it, not lamenting it, not trying to change it (although I treated the cough and the sore throat), but listening to what was there. This deep listening to the body, to events, to what comes to us (in conversation or otherwise), can lead us to the true deepness of meditation — true listening for how spirit speaks to us.