Signs Around Town


I have not much been one for hand sanitizer, though I have long washed my hands well and frequently and avoided touching directly door knobs and elevator buttons, etc, and appropriate social isolation when I am sick.
In the present moment, it seemed like a nice idea to try and make hand sanitizer at home and then share it. I already had the alcohol for making tinctures and the tea tree oil, but mixing this combination of things all together will be a new thing. I would have done better with aloe vera gel than juice and a good deal less, but this was the smallest size. As long as it’s more than 60%alcohol, it should both sanitize and keep.
The remaining ingredients are meant to add moisturizing and/or antiseptic properties. Both tea tree and lemongrass oil can be irritating, so that will only be a few drops.

When I prepare to teach a workshop, I usually do a fair amount of background reading in addition to preparing the asana practice and contemplating the theme. Right now, I am getting ready to teach a workshop on the hidden powers of hanumanasana (See Workshops page for more info). A few weeks ago, I came across a tattered 1987 edition of an Indian publication of the Ramayana by Chakravarti Rajagopalachari. I was planning to read other works about Hanuman, but thought that I must be meant to read this one.
It is an interesting little book. Chakravarti, also known as “Rajaji” was the first Indian governor-general of India and a close compatriot of Gandhi. The work is interesting from a historical perspective. It was first published in 1951 in Tamil and then translated from Tamil into English. The purpose of the work was to make the Ramayana accessible to those who were not educated in Sanskrit and philosophy. Although purportedly for children, it obviously had appeal for a wider audience (the 1987 edition I found was the 25th). Rather than a translation, it is a retelling of the story, filled with homilies and somewhat paternalistic commentaries. Although because it is faithful to the story it still has the relentless sexism of the original, Rajaji does tell his readers in his commentary that the commonly held belief (supported by the language of the Ramayana, which is regarded as a religious text) that a woman has sinned or is shamed if “a villain behaves like a brute” to her is just wrong.
What was most interesting to me about this particular telling of the Ramayana, aside from its historical and social context, was how it resonated with my Anusara studies. When Hanuman first battles the demons, Rajaji says the demons “showered missiles on him which mostly glanced harmlessly off his adamantine frame.” Rajaji uses the word “adamantine” to describe Hanuman elsewhere in the work. Here, Hanuman is adamantine because his devotion and steadiness make an energetically impermeable boundary. Hanuman is able to love deeply and to engage in battle fully, but is protected from the inside out by his practice and his devotion. John Friend speaks often of using one’s practice to become “adamantine.” He suggests that the practice of opening to grace, and then pulsing a perfect balance between drawing in and reaching out energetically (muscular and organic energy), gives us an adamantine core that enables us to be open to a full range of experience without being harmed by negative things. I have experience myself from six steady years of Anusara practice, how the principles can indeed help me be open, while keeping negative energy from invading my space.
A used copy of this edition would likely have been around when John Friend was traveling in India when he first went to the Siddha yoga ashram. Did reading this particular edition lead him to use the word “adamantine” in the context of his teaching of the energetics of asana? I do not have an answer to that question, nor should I conjecture. What I do know, is that regardless of how I feel about some of the exterior social influences and teachings of the great Indian texts (think how I might feel about the Spanish Inquisition as it relates to the Bible), there is much to learn about meditation, yoga practice, and personal integrity interwoven in the stories.
Other readings:
The Concise Ramayana of Valmiki by Swami Venkatesananda (much more scholarly — the translation you would read if you were taking a university course, but didn’t know Sanskrit)
The Ramayana retold by William Buck — easy to read; like reading a novel-length fairy tale rendition for adolescents (changes the ending to make what happens to Sita more palatable)
The Ramayana — A Modern Retelling of the Great Indian Epic by Ramesh Menon. Great novel. Cannot recommend highly enough, but probably won’t resonate as much unless you are familiar with the Ramayana and other Indian epics and philosophy.
The Monkey Grammarian by Octavio Paz, trans. from the Spanish by Helen Lane. From the back cover: “Hanuman, the red-faced monkey chief and ninth grammarian of Hindu mythology, is the protagonist of this dazzling prose poem — a mind journey into the temple city of Galta and the occasion … to explore the nature of naming and knowing, time and reality, and fixity and decay.”
I took a very enjoyable class this morning with Sue Elkind at Dig Yoga. It was a very full class, so the mats were several inches apart–far enough not to feel too crowded, but close enough to be able to do standing poses supporting each other.
We did tree pose holding or pressing into the arms/hands of the people on either side of us. Sue invited is to close our eyes and lean/hold more heavily on each other to stay balanced. (It is a lot harder to balance when we close our eyes; try it if it has been a while or you’ve never tried it.)
One of the people next to me got off balance and fell out of the pose. The instinct to keep from taking anyone else off balance was to withdraw from contact. But leaning farther into me would have increased the possibility of the other yogi regaining the pose and would have kept needed support in place for me.
A good lesson for these stressful times that continuing to lean in for support instead of withdrawing can enhance the whole support network.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
This morning while I was out in the garden, I heard a chirping right above my head. Within arm’s reach was a bright red male cardinal perched among the grapes effusively talking. (I planted a tiny red, concord grape vine about six years ago, and it has flourished beyond my wildest dreams).
There were enough ripe grapes for me to pick a handful for myself. I have bird netting, but I have not put it over the grapes. They did not do so well this year, many turning brown prematurely because, I think, of the drought-ridden winter followed by the extra wet and cool spring. I am grateful that I will not be dependent on these grapes as food for myself to survive through next winter (I’m pretty sure; if not, I have bigger things to worry about).
For the joy of having the birds come visit so fearlessly and delightedly, and because the grapes are not fantastic to eat, I leave all, but those I get by the small handful a couple of mornings a week for a few weeks, to the birds. Maybe next year I will net the grapes, but then I’ll have to have a canning party to make jam. In the meantime, I’ll marvel that every bird in DC seems to know when my grapes ripen.
We make decisions like this all the time. With how we shop, what we eat, what work we choose, how we travel, we are making decisions about habitat and environment for ourselves and hosts of other beings.
In yoga, the process of ever refining our understanding so that we can be more in touch with how we act impacts our life force and our relationship with all around us, is viveka, or discrimination. Just as the more we practice on the mat, the more we develop awareness of what leads us to feel more in tune and more celebratory of life, so too, we want to use that yoga refinement and discrimination to inform our acts off the mat.