Author: Elizabeth

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    Abhinavagupta (X-Rated or Not?)

    ByElizabeth

    As I get deeper into studying tantric philosophy I have taken the time to pause and reflect on how that philosophy originated and grew and who were the people offering and practicing the teachings.  The tantric teachings I have received and offer are completely chaste.  Put “tantra” into your favorite search engine, though, and you will see that people tend to think it is about intimate physical connection (my first euphemism).  What is tantra?  Is it one or the other?  Is it something one can have without the other?

    To help me think through and contemplate the issue, I read David Gordon White’s The Alchemical Body. I followed this with Lilian Silburn’s Kundalinia–Energy of the Depths.”  What seems fairly evident–if you want the details, I invite you to read the books yourself (and also on sri vidya, Douglas Renfrew Brooks’ The Secret of the Three Cities)–is that despite the inclusion of those not twice born and women in the rituals, the community of tantrikas was no less sexist than more traditional society.  The role of women in the secret rituals, as I have read it described, is one that would be wholly unacceptable to me in terms of equality, gender neutrality, and respect for women as human beings and not as archtypes and means to an end for male practitioners.

    I did not get into the depths of knowing the historical details before I had been strongly drawn to the metaphysics of Kashmir Shaivism, which has been an integral part of my yoga studies.  As I think about how a feminist, pacifist can find the universal teachings while still acknowledging the historical and social context in other texts such as the Bhagavad Gita and the Bible, it seemed given tantra’s rap in today’s society, I should see what my answer is for the tantric teachings as well.  In thinking about the issue, I contemplated how I see the teachings in and out of the historical context (as you can see from the link to Swami Lakshmanjoo, the philosophical teachings are presented today without a hint the secret rituals).

    I also asked the following, among other questions:  How important is it for the student to take the teacher for the whole of the teachings and his or her human strengths and weaknesses?  Is it ok to just really believe in one aspect of the teachings?  Can we pick and choose what to learn and still be faithful to the lineage? Can we love and respect someone fully even if we disagree with his or her way or life and/or way of participating in society?  Is extraordinary grace and genius enough to make what might otherwise trouble or even appall us seem irrelevant? Is it easier to come to terms with this issue for those teachers from different time periods or cultures and thus for whom our own choices or “modern thinking” might not have been available?

    I think that the Wikipedia entry for Abhinavagupta, which mentions that the community would have engaged in secret (my spam-avoidance euphemism) ritual, but avers that “[w]e can only speculate about whether he was physically chaste, and either answer to this question is not very meaningful in the context of his life and teachings” gets it half right.  It seems to me that it would be meaningful when looking at his life, but not of import in the modern receipt of the teachings.  I think, for me, the very resonance of the philosophy and the practices with which I am familiar are not less meaningful for the historical concomitance of the hidden practices.

     

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    Arugula and Green Garlic Pesto

    ByElizabeth

    There’s lots of arugula in the garden.  Some still new enough to save for salad, some that has bolted in the heat.  The cilantro is just about gone with the dry heat.  The basil and parsley have gone to flower.  As I thought about how best to enjoy all of what was there while simultaneously best tending the garden for optimal growth (much like yoga practice), I remembered that I had seen a farmer with arugula pesto at the Dupont Circle Fresh Farm Market last week.  I bought something else from the farmer to honor the idea, fully conscious of my own garden full of arugula calling out to me.

    Making pesto was a great way to optimize the bitter tang of the flowers on the older plants.  (I left a few of each type of plant to go to seed for a second crop starting in late summer on a volunteer basis).  I added enough of the young arugula and some tender parsley and basil leaves, along with the basil flowers, to bring out the arugula taste that would have been hidden by the bitterness in the plants that had flowered if not been combined with other foods.  I pureed the chopped greens with olive oil, walnuts, and green garlic.  Salt and pepper to taste.

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    Firefly Tattoo?

    ByElizabeth

    I was looking at an age spot on my forearm the other day and wondered whether I should get a tattoo to cover or incorporate it.  “Something small and modest, but with meaning,” I thought.  “Something that would not admit to the original reason.  Perhaps a realistic version of the smallest of butterflies.”  Then I thought without any apparent trigger, “what about a firefly?”  When they are not lit up, they look like the kind of bug we would swat at or try to avoid, but at night, when the firefly glows, it is magic.

    How many things are there that seem ordinary or even distasteful until we open our eyes, our minds, and our hearts to see their full and true essence?

    I do not know whether I will get the tattoo.  But I hope that those that can (those with backyards) will take a few simple steps to make a home for some fireflies.

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    Found Exhortation (with Commentary)

    ByElizabeth

    This bumper sticker (on an enormous black SUV with suburban plates) is likely intended to have only a message about the current wars in which the US is engaged. I wholeheartedly support the sentiment at that level.

    What if we took it at other levels? What if we applied it to spiritual-religious practices? We could interpret this as suggesting that we honor the great teachers who have gone before us, invite religious observance and spiritual practice to heal ourselves and others, and dissolve notions of differences among religions and spiritual practices as bases for conflict. How many wars between countries or civil wars would end if saw unity while still honoring difference in this regard?

    Perhaps most cogent for the yogi: what if we thought of the exhortation in terms of our own personal practice? It would be an invocation to honor our ancestors, heal the wounds of our family and upbringing (samskaras), and release inner conflict. This is, I think the point of practicing (whatever the style of practice) so that true peace can abound.

    Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.

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    The Photographer’s Dilemma (and “Morning Sprout Sandwich”)

    ByElizabeth

    At which point I put down the camera and ate.  Uma turned her back and looked out the garden.

    Morning Spout Sandwich–whole grain toast, tahini, avocado, assorted homegrown sprouts, fresh herbs picked the moment before garnishing (dill shown here), a sprinkle of sea salt (optional)

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    Types of Theists

    ByElizabeth

    Do you have to be some type of theist to have a “spiritual practice” or to self-identify or belong to a particular religious group?

    Here are some types of theists: atheist, nontheist, monotheist, polytheist, pantheist, post-theist, modern theist (I just made that one up), theist ? (agnostic), none of the above.

    What type are you? Does it matter to you what you are? Do you think it matters to others what type of theist you think you are? Which comes first: the spiritual or religious practice/group or the type of theistic belief/identification?

    Do you think that a world where where this sort of identification and question did not exist would be freer from strife?

    Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.

  • A Table Near the Kitchen (and an Opportunity for Gratitude)

    ByElizabeth

    As I was finishing my lunch today, my server came over to see if I wanted dessert or something hot to drink. I declined, but she chatted with me a little. I had made a reservation for two, but ended up eating by myself, and she took the time to be friendly. “I didn’t think to bring my journal,” I said, “though I did have the Blackberry to blog.”

    “I always have a couple of magazines with me, but at least you are near the kitchen and can enjoy watching the food come out,” she added.

    “It’s my favorite spot. I always ask for this table,” I replied.

    “Some diners don’t like it. One diner posted a review on ‘Yelp’ saying that the food was good, but complained that they always stuck him near the kitchen.”

    “Not me. It is so much fun to look at all the possibilities and expand the feast with the eyes.”

    As I was eating, I had felt a minor trepidation because I thought of myself as sitting at a plum table. The restaurant was crowded, and I knew that by ordering only a salad entree, the server was not getting the tip on a table for two (a table that I never would have gotten with a reservation for one).

    I was sad my friend could not join me. We get together about once a month to catch up and to eat good food, and we always enjoy our lunches. After I was already sitting down at the table, I had gotten a message that she had gotten off the metro and was heading to the restaurant when her firm had called her back to the office to handle an emergency.

    As I was already seated and had water poured, I decided to stay and eat. Two trains of thought while I was eating stayed at the forefront.

    Though the food was lovely and I affirmatively like dining in solitude, it was not quite as tasty eating alone than sharing with someone who likes to share and discuss the food when that was what I had been expecting.

    More important, though I was bummed, missing the opportunity to swap stories and enjoy the company of my friend, I was incredibly grateful that this was my big disappointment for the week. I am sure it was harder for my friend than for me. I was still getting a break and a nice meal. She was dealing with an emergency of some sort and also disappointed not to have our treat of the monthly lunch. I am sure she is, too, keenly aware that her disappointment and the emergency she was addressing were small compared to the suffering that so many millions of individuals face each day.

    I left lunch with my appetite sated, my tastebuds replete, and my resolve firm both to savor everything more deeply and to try to live in a way that spreads more joy and alleviates suffering.

    And I left a big tip to thank the server for being kind and sent proposed dates to my friend to reschedule.

    Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.