Requests Around Town


When my students arrived at William Penn House last night for class, I said, “yes, I knew him; they are both my co-workers.” I didn’t need to say anything else. All of them read the Washington Post and know that I work for the Department of Labor in the area of pension benefits. I said that I was shaken by the news, and I would offer the best practice I could. At my invitation, we worked on grounding, being heavy in the best meaning of heavy so that we would feel the stability to rise and to stay graceful and open as we practiced some challenging standing poses and backbends, leading to a modified version of natarajasana (dancing in the cosmic fire).
One co-worker is dead (either suicide or murder in his jail cell) after having severely injured another. Yes, we all worked in the same office for three years when I first started at the Department in 1991 and episodically have worked on common projects for almost 22 years, most recently just three weeks ago. Had it been a fatal accident or a heart attack, a few dozen of us would have been at the funeral and spoken of what we liked about him. It wouldn’t have been the horrified questioning ourselves and each other of what possibly could have gone so terribly, shockingly wrong. The grieving and sense of loss are no less present and real, though, for the recoiling from his last acts and the salacious and rapacious local media coverage.
Quaker practice has me holding those affected in the light–he and his family and she and hers, and our co-workers. On hearing yesterday that he had died in jail, I was moved to chant the maha mrityunjaya mantra. I was taught that chanting this mantra every day for 30 days can help a spirit cross-over. What is spirit and to where it might be crossing was not really explained because how could it be? But I do think chanting with such an intention can be a useful tool to help focus one’s own emotional process and healing in connection with a death.
For some background on the mantra, you might want to start with this overview with useful links published by the Himalayan Institute (be advised that though citing to the YI because of the breadth of coverage, to get to the basic details, I needed to ignore the cheesy graphics and the use of the term “Lord” before Shiva in the linked article on what the author says are appropriate uses of the mantra).
My co-worker gave me this oakleaf hydrangea about 10-12 years ago; his brother had pulled an extra seedling that was an offshoot from a larger plant in his yard. It did not start thriving until two seasons ago when I moved it to a different corner of my front garden.
I am sitting at the airport getting ready to fly to Phoenix. At Sky Harbor International, I will join friends, and we will drive together to Sedona for a weekend of study, meditation and other practice, and companionship.
On the most recent study call, our teacher Paul Muller-Ortega said that we are not going on a retreat. We are not joining together to get away from things, to escape from our lives. Rather, we are taking an opportunity to deepen and expand our practice to live life more fully. Would it not be more accurate, then, Paul suggested, to think of it as going on an “advance” than on “retreat?”
My friend Dan posted a blog entry earlier this week talking about getting distracted by a rainbow. He wrote that he was sure that other “grownups” did not get distracted by the rainbow. As I was observing the way people were commuting this afternoon, grimly looking down, hurrying along, texting and phoning, and apparently completely disconnected to the beauty around them, I thought of Dan’s blog. I thought not seeing the sky or turning away from its beauty is not being fully “grown up.”
Part of my friendship with you, Dan, is sharing the wonder of looking at rainbows. It is the “distraction” perhaps that is the invitation, at least in my own practice, for more skill. In seeking to live the life of a “householder yogin,” I am trying to be the grownup who always sees the rainbow and takes time to see it, but has the skill to illuminate even the most mundane of daily activities with the wonder of seeing the rainbow.