Well, not always and not as much for some than others in particular embodiments or at certain periods in life, but at least for the moment. A moment of stillness, of being at peace, of creativity, of effulgence, of some sort of contentment is always possible. Discovering sri is knowing how to find/make/connect into such moments, especially when things don’t seem easy.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
In yoga class and in daily activities, it is easy to get caught up in trying to do things that are not expanding our capacity, but pushing past it for the sake of some external goal. Sometimes what keeps us from seeking assistance or using a prop (on or off the mat) is some untoward sense of shame that we cannot do it (whatever it is) by ourselves or fear of feeling or seeming weak. This includes not just seeking physical support or assistance, but also asking a question that admits we need help understanding a task or posture.
Sometimes we are right to think that we need to push our boundaries and do something without external support. More common, though, is not having the sensitivity and courage to know and admit when we need help. And fending for ourselves when when we are beyond our capacity and help is available quite often leads to unnecessary suffering.
Learning when and how to ask for help is one of my core yoga practices. What about you?
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
I saw this beautiful roll of chicken wire in the Enid Haupt garden when I was walking back to the office after a quick visit to see the Gods of Angkor exhibit at the Sackler Gallery (sorry about the absence of links; blogging from the BB).
I was first introduced to the idea of “found poetry” in junior high school and have developed a life-long habit of photographing words to change, enhance, and/or question their meaning and hidden beauty by the act of extracting them from their original place and presenting them as a photograph. Marcel Duchamp and others did what poets and photographers were doing with words with ordinary objects by presenting them as sculpture.
Here, where I have photographed the chicken wire roll, is the art a sculpture (because I could treat it as such) of which I have taken a photograph–the photograph being mere documentation? Is the art the photograph of what I have seen to the extent I am offering it as a vision and a dialogue generated by what I saw? Or is the photograph merely a snapshot taken with a hand-held computer device documenting an object that happened to be sitting there–not art at all? If it were not for artists such as Duchamp, could I or would I even be able to ask this question?
I think that analogous types of questions have been and can be asked about the variety of religious and mystical experience. Is there a particular way they must be experienced? Do such experiences have to fit within a prescribed framework to be valid? When are such experiences madness or delusion and when are they the voice of the spirit? Who gets to decide? Does it depend on the era and the culture in which the experiencer lives? Does the answer to any of these questions matter if the experiences lead one to a more loving, compassionate, and beauty-filled life?
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
@ The Strand.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
Around town is rarely more than 10 blocks away. This outrageous lilac is just around the other side of the corner house next door.
