Sadhana
The chant this evening was “no war, yes, peace.” It is not enough, if things are going to change, just to say what we don’t want. We need to offer and work towards alternatives.
United States Capitol, January 9, 2020
The chant this evening was “no war, yes, peace.” It is not enough, if things are going to change, just to say what we don’t want. We need to offer and work towards alternatives.
United States Capitol, January 9, 2020
For over a week, the WordPress app on my phone has not worked. First it would not let me upload photos. After trying uninstall/reinstall, it would no longer recognize my username/password combination. I know I have that right because I can sign in through the browser. It’s a bit awkward to use the browser on the phone as opposed to the phone format friendly app, but sometimes we need to explore alternative methods and be grateful for skills and creativity, and managing to function in a computer world reminds me of this regularly. For example, every time I sign in at work computer, I first have to engage in a counterintuitive activity before I can get to the password screen. But I think about it in terms of yoga: control, i.e., disciplined and educated practice; alternatives, i.e., if something doesn’t work, try something else; and delete, i.e., let go of what does not serve. Only then can I get started.
When I pause to think about it–something I try to do consistently with the fruits of technology–it is an extraordinary marvel that I can be telling stories to the world from a little device I am holding in my hand, one that also has let me speak and exchange notes while I am away from home with friends, colleagues, and business connections.
What I cannot do (more likely because I haven’t yet learned how than it is not possible) is to be my usual careful self when posting entries. I have not done hyperlinks to attrbute my sources, nor have I spell-checked. At home, I would not hit the “publish” button without doing those things.
Under the circumstances of being away from my regular computer, my library, the ability to check my references, and to provide proper citation, but being brimful with enthusiasm for being with my teachers, colleagues, friends, and the practices while I am at the teachers’ gathering, it seems better to post than not, using the means at hand. I sacrifice some of my usual discipline to share the joy.
All of life is like that. We may have ideals of what is proper, what are our standards for appearance, for work, for sharing a meal or our homes. When circumstances limit our ability to meet our own standards, it is part of the yoga to see whether the standards are binding us or serving to help us better connect. I believe that we should always strive to be more precise, more technically accomplished, better able to convey a sense of grace and beauty. But that effort should not cut us off, bring us to a halt, disempower us, prevent accomplishment of things. Most of all, it should not deaden a sense of spontaneity of gesture–the part of art and relationship that reveals our true spark.
I walk past the Japanese American World War II Memorial on my way to work. This means I mostly walk past without thinking about why it is there. This morning I was moved to reread and remember and ask myself what am I doing about it?
