Long time neighbors and participants in the rose garden yoga posse, who have now retired and are moving to be nearer children and grandchildren, gave me their yard sign.
I will miss them for practice and around the neighborhood. I like, if they must go, that I will think of them fondly every time I come home to this exhortation and its call to practice.
A work colleague of mine graciously said to me that he did not know how I got through certain meetings without yelling, he did not know if he could do it. I replied that lots of yoga helped. “Maybe I should get back to transcendental meditation,” he said, “but I found it did not really help; I should find something, though.”
I said that I tried to think of the challenges at work as just part of the dance that yields such rich abundance for me. The discussion carried on, and we not only resolved the minor problem that had led to the phone call, but also felt a deeper connection that will make it easier in the future to resolve work issues that we mutually encounter.
What I like best about the myth of Nataraja is that the dance is not for the purpose of creating the world or with any particular design, but for the sheer bliss of dancing — anantatandava. The dance makes possible both destruction and creation, but it is not its reason. When we engage in the dance of our own lives, yoga invites us just to dance fully with wonder at the rich diversity of experience. We make choices and seek to be more aligned, but ultimately we are just dancing.
Yesterday I received a rather negative email in response to my posting a suggestion on a list serve connected to a religious organization that people write to their elected officials about the health care bill pending in the Senate. I sent the email because my contribution to this group is to serve as the designated liaison between a lobbying group that was established by the religious organization and the religious organization. Once of month or so, I highlight issues that are the focus of the lobbying groups email campaigns. The email took me to task for thinking that politics has any place in connection with spiritual practice and therefore the on-line discussion should never be about politics. The person assured me that our political views were different, although I did not actually suggest what people should write; I only said that they should write. I have been pondering this deeply as it is a topic I have thought about, taught about, and wrestled with deeply over the years, especially during the Presidential elections.
As one who believes that body, mind, and community are inseparable from spirit, I am unable to separate political action from spiritual action. I believe that I have a duty to be knowledgeable about the issues challenging society as a whole, to take action within the framework of society to seek the embodiment of my spiritual beliefs (grossly oversimplified, that the rules, commitments, and support networks of society should recognize the light of all beings — human and not — and foster the seeking of that light by all), and to challenge the very framework of the discussion and rules when they obscure the light and its recognition.
One of the reasons for discussion is to explore, to learn, to be challenged, to expand both knowledge and understanding. That can be a hard process. I certainly do not expect people to agree with each other at all times, but that is not the point of discussion. While I think this sort of discussion perfectly appropriate in the context of a spiritual discussion, it might be less welcome where what is being sought is an immediate sense of peace and harmony in the connection of a particular practice. For example, if it is known that family and friends have strong disagreements about “political” issues, it might be disagreeable for digestion and the day to bring up the issues at the Thanksgiving dinner table.
When I saw this headline the other day, the first thought that came to mind was how much pleasanter life would be if those spending huge amounts of effort and money to “fight” gay marriage would pour that energy into educating children, tending gardens, and being friendly with their neighbors. The next thought, which was not unrelated, was that the headline was a prime example of how the action of mayiya mala serves to alienate us and cause unnecessary rancor.
The three malas or cloakings, in tantric philosophy, are aspects of consciousness that prevent us from recognizing the unifying spirit in all beings. We tend to hear a fair amount in yoga class about the first of these —anava mala, which clouds or covers over our recognition of the divine in ourselves, thus leading to feelings of unworthiness–but there is less focus on the other two (the third is karma mala, which is the illusion that we are doing everything all by ourselves–that’s an oversimplification. Perhaps more another time).
At an elemental level, mayiya mala is the distinction between subject and object that leads us to feel separate from other beings. When this separateness makes us feel threatened or needy, then we can behave very badly indeed (mild understatement). I believe that our superficial requirements of outer sameness–think dress codes or neighborhood rules on what one can plant in one’s front yard–are exactly because we fear difference. If we can instead accept difference as part of the play of what actually connects us (see through mayiya mala, then we can more easily love and embrace others and widest variety of creative expression.
On our mats, one of the things that leads to injury is mayiya mala. When we forget that we the purpose of the practice is to seek the peaceful joyous space within ourselves and instead get competitive or acquisitive about postures (or external emblems of “spiritual advancement”), we are getting caught up in the differences and comparisons generated by mayiya mala and get compelled to push and strive in unhealthy and dangerous ways. When we remember the true purpose of practice, we will seek to expand, but with such sensitivity that we do not hurt ourselves. This, of course, is easier said than done.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
I found a couple of plants shivering on the sidewalk last week. They seem to be recovering nicely. I divided several plants over the holiday period, and repotted others. I find the plants help me stay inside.
