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In the Midst of the Turmoil

ByElizabeth

On Saturday, along with a few thousand other people, I went to the March for Our Lives at the base of the Washington monument.  Set out before the monument, in even rows, were thousands of vases of white and orange flowers (orange for the most recent) hundreds deaths from gun violence.  it was raining off and on; the speakers were on a platform with loud audio-video, people held signs–some expressing rage, discuss, and frustration, some suggesting productive action.  Near the vases, apart from the crowd and the noise, a person dressed in purple sat in meditation.  After spending some time in the crowd and focussing on the speakers, I went and joined the person who was sitting.  We talked a bit; Satyani acts as a “mindfulness mentor” and can be found on Facebook as “Kosmique Light Meditation.”  Satyani did not identify as a protester and felt uncomfortable fighting and felt moved to act, which was what led to coming and sitting for meditation.  I suggested, referencing Gandhi and Quaker practices, that being here meditating, holding the space, connecting with those who have died while being present for the living is very much participating in protesting.

On Sunday (before going down to the Capitol Pride Festival), I took a class on Zoom with Michele Cassandra Johnson for Patreon subscribers.  She offered a soothing/cooling practice, and invited us to consider how we can cultivate cooling and soothing while saying amidst the fire and engaged in the fight?

To stay in it for the intensity it is now and the life-long practice it must be, that is an essential question, the answer to which will shift depending on circumstances.

Pictures from the March for Our Lives, the Capitol Pride Festival, and some fabulous bird sightings at Kingman and Heritage Island the Friday before, are posted on Instagram and Facebook.

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    “Culture Wars” (and Mayiya-Mala)

    ByElizabeth

    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.

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    To do list? (Yoga citta vrtti nirodaha)

    ByElizabeth

    Twitter?  What would be

    The point without an I-phone?

    Buy one? Save the nation?

    Last night I wrote this “twaiku” (why is it not a “twittiku?”) after having read yet another series of articles on why or why not to Twitter and still more articles on why it is important for a nation of consumers to keep consuming even if that is what got them into trouble in the first place.  One of the articles was lamenting the loss of true communication that comes with being limited to 140 characters, and it set forth some examples of how peculiar, when taken out of context, some twittering can sound, especially to the uninitiated.  In my attempt to keep an open mind about devaluing language while still communicating in language, I was led to think about haikus v. sonnets and other longer poetic forms.   A haiku easily fits into 140 characters.  This led me to wonder whether anyone had created a haiku trend on Twitter?  A quick Google search revealed that I am way behind the times in terms of the twaiku?

    One of the articles suggested that Twittering is about being in the moment.  Contrarians say it fosters attention deficit disorder and a host of other language-loss ills.  This led me to think of the Yoga Sutra of Patanjali “yoga citta vrtti nirodaha” (yoga is stilling/aligning with the thoughwaves of the mind).  When evaluating what to consume, when to consume, and how to consume (whether it is language and communication methods or electronic goods or anything else), if we are serious about taking yoga off the mat, it is good to think about whether our consumption eases the trials of being embodied or makes daily living more agitating, and whether our consumption brings us more into alignment with nature/spirit (brahmacharya) or turns us away.

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    “Yes We Can”

    ByElizabeth

    Yesterday’s inaugural concert spurred all sorts of memories from me.  When I was a child, we went a number of times to the Clearwater Revival Festival and other folk festivals where Pete Seeger was a headline.  He is just ten years older than my Dad, and though my parents were not among those who became famous, they were hanging around the Village and my Dad was doing activist things at the same time.  James Taylor’s “Shower the People” was a favorite when I was in junior high school.  There was a boy from camp who played the guitar who I remember saying that “a little James Taylor goes a long way [towards getting a girl’s attention].”  Bruce Springsteen, John Cougar Mellenkamp, U2, Bob Marley, Aaron Copeland, and the great oldies (played at the concert and listed as Obama’s top ten ipod songs), are part of the music of my high school, college, and law school years.

    Not needing music or advertising to help me decide to vote, I didn’t pay much attention to how music was being used in the campaign.  But here was the music, and it was mostly my music, too.  The concert was very clever, designed to appeal to black and white, young and old, and populist — they were careful to have the performers whose oevre might not appeal to an older or younger crowd stick to songs with mass appeal.

    Interestingly, it gave me an insight to those conservative guys from the middle of the country who said they liked W because he was the kind of guy they could hang with and have a beer.  The concert was a concert I might have attended when I was in high school or college or law school.  I had an insight about what it feels like to feel comfortable with the education and background of the President, but only up to a point.  I enjoyed this trip down memory lane, but it did not impact my politics or how I would view the Presidency.  There is a fine line between relating and agreeing, appreciating and accepting without question.

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