Whatever the weathers doing whatever else might be going on, every year My sense of wonder and delight is rekindled by Spring blossoming.
Last night I went to see the revival of the Bernstein musical version of Voltaire’s Candide, now playing at the Shakespeare Theater’s Harmon Hall (discount tickets available), which was absolutely a delight — fantastic staging and direction, luxurious costuming, enthusiastic performances. Throughout his journey, which is beset with cruelty, hardship, natural disaster, and other mishaps wherever he goes, Candide sings of his tutor’s optimistic advice that “all’s for the best in this best of all possible worlds.” The application of this philosophy leads to some silly results, including the Monty Python-worthy lyric “it’s a great day for an auto da fe.”
I have a friend who, after telling me of various life challenges and griefs, inevitably signs off with the phrase “it’s all good,” though I am not sure she believes it. I thought of her repetition of the phrase “it’s all good,” while I was watching the musical. Later in Candide’s travels, he encounters a second philosopher scholar who (I’m paraphrasing loosely) contradicts the “it’s all for the best” philosophy of Candide’s tutor by telling Candide to just look around and he will know that things are not in fact always for the best. A fluffier version of the debate in the novel, as to whether things are all for the best when there is so much cruelty and devastation, is interwoven into the rest of the play.
I’ve never had a desire to wear the t-shirt proclaiming that “it’s all good.” I look around me, and I simply do not believe it. I do believe wholeheartedly, though, Voltaire’s premise that we have the responsibility to “cultivate our garden.” As my teachers John Friend and Paul Muller-Ortega espouse, we should “respond from the highest,” regardless of what we experience and encounter. By having our response make the best of all possible worlds from things that are not evidently for the best, we bring more light into the world, whatever is our world view. I can only hope that with steady practice of yoga and meditation, I can keep ever truer to these teachings when I am seriously challenged.
On Friday, on the cusp between late afternoon and early evening, a friend, who has been under significant stress, came over to hang out for a while. I brought my friend up to the yoga studio, invited putting legs up the wall (vipariti karani), which invitation was accepted. To create more ease, I took a folded practice blanket and rolled about a third of the way and placed the rolled part under the neck, with the unrolled portion under the head, to support the cervical curve. Then I offered the placement of soft weight (in this case, buckwheat-filled, silk, travel meditation pillows) for grounding on the soles of the feet. With the placement of the first, came the involuntary sigh that sounds like a “yes.” I asked to be sure and added the second. With the assurance that I would return soon and staying in the pose was entirely voluntary, I then went to feed the cat and then rejoined my friend in the pose.
As the day was one of the really hot ones and even in the house it was 79F, we then just massaged our feet and practiced moving our toes before we moved from practice to sharing food. Having never been asked to move her big or little toes independently of the others, my friend discovered how delightful it can be to pour one’s focus into something so small and notice also what else in the mind-body is responding to the attempts.
When I am working on alignment of my body (into shapes or controlling movements), that is all my mind is doing. While I appreciate focus on alignment is not for everyone, the structure and focus are soothing for me. What about for you?
Fostering community and joy is also part of the resilient resistance.
