Discussion of physical aspects of yoga (on and off the mat)
If you can tell me where I was standing when I took this picture (street corner–that’s a hint–is sufficient; latitude and longitude not needed), your next Tuesday night yoga class is free. Please email rather than comment so you don’t spoil the fun for others. If you posts the answer no one else gets to play and that would not be sharing the yoga love.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
I walked over to the Capitol building at lunchtime to see the rally in support of the Jobs Bill. As I approached, attendees were chanting “jobs not war, jobs not war, jobs not war, jobs not war, jobs not war, jobs not war, jobs not war, jobs not war, jobs not war….”
The act of chanting gathered the energy together. The chanting empowered those at the rally to deepen their resolve. In this instance, their resolve was to seek in an ever more coordinated and expansive way a shift away from war and big finance and to community, environment, education, and infrastructure repair and development, employing the millions who have been out of work in this double recession. Chanting also helped bring the message into the conscious awareness of those hearing the chant, which in its simplicity served as a sign post both for the more elaborate meaning and for a more universal call for unity and change. This power to work both within and without with chanting at a rally can give a taste the powers attributed to the yoga practices of mantra repetition (japa) or meditation with a mantra. Just how mantra and chanting work is a curious and wondrous matter, but it is hard to think of a culture that has not spontaneously used chants for both individual and collective worship and power.
I am in the middle of reading a book about a movement/organization centered on one of those forms of meditation that was brought to the West by an Eastern spiritual leader and drew millions of followers around the globe in the 1960’s and 70’s and beyond. One of the things in the book reminded me of something said to me several years ago by a long-time practitioner of a similar practice, with a different leader. This practitioner had said, as if he had discovered an actual truth for his meditation practice, that he had learned from the organization and movement that as long as one meditated, it was OK to be a jerk. At the time, I had two reactions: (1) surely that cannot be right; and (2) it is such statements that make people at best skeptical of meditation and the kind of people who invite others to meditate.
What triggered this memory was a statement in the book, attributed to the spiritual leader, that it does not matter what you do to make the world better if you are not also working on yourself.
Taken literally, I suppose someone who behaves like a jerk and an irresponsible and callow citizen could use it to feel good about himself for meditating and continuing not to care about relationships to others and the planet, but I do not think that was the intent of the teaching.
The yoga teachings require us to work on ourselves, which includes how we are in relationship to the world. If we are trying to “do good” for the world, but still treat ourselves and our intimates badly, we will not be the best we can be because we will still be far from individual enlightenment. In that limited sense, it does not matter if we are a “do gooder,” but only in that very limited sense. Also, if we slip up and do something jerk-like, it is said that a guru (for those that have one), like a true friend or loving family member, would not reject a sincere devotee for the slip-up, but would just point again to where the practitioner needs to go on the path. The enlightened guru would still see the good in the devotee, however much work might remain for him or her.
If we act like jerks and irresponsible and uncaring citizens we are not seeing the divine (whatever that means to you) in all beings and acting in recognition of that universal divinity, which is the point of the practices. We are also building up negative karma that imprints itself and makes our spiritual work that much more challenging. But we are not booted off the path, and we are still worthy of love if we slip up. Thus does it not matter; but truly, it matters a lot.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
Earlier this week I was talking to a long-time friend of the family (my father has known him and his wife for over 60 years; they have known me since I was riding around in the womb). My parents had sent me an email while I was on the meditation intensive with Paul Muller-Ortega last month, to tell me that our friend was in intensive care recovering from an operation. I waited until I knew he was home to call because it can be so tricky to get the right time at the hospital. When we spoke, I told him that my father had said that his intrepid cheerfulness was a complete inspiration. “What choice do I have,” he asked, “what can you do when you wake up in intensive care on your 82nd birthday, but look for the gift it will have to bring?”
In the past several weeks, a number of other friends and family members have been seriously ill or lost loved ones or home or work or more than one of these. The outrageous suffering from a seemingly relentless series of natural disasters and war and the financial crisis is a staple in the news. In trying to stay present for my friends and community, while still taking care of my own needs and emotions, I found myself led to practice bhavana on (deeply contemplate) the first sutra in Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras: atha yoganusasanam–now begins the practice of yoga and how it relates to the Anusara first principle of “opening to grace.”
Teachers and commenters say of the Yoga Sutras that it was not meant for beginners, but was meant for students who have already established a practice and reached a level of initiation (diksha) that established they were ready to be given the teachings. I have also often heard said that one is drawn to the practices because of other experiences in this or a previous life; in some sense, the first time we show up, we are not a beginner and are ready for the teachings. Whatever knowledge and skill we bring to our studies and practice on any given day, they start new. They are starting “now.”
Now begins the practice of yoga (yug)–of uniting ourselves with each other and with spirit and linking our mind and body one-pointedly to the fullness of the teachings. The teachings are methods for knowing and experiencing this perfect union. In that regard, I think that an essential element of the teaching conveyed by the Anusara first principle of “opening to grace,” is this now, this beginning anew both to know what already is in our hearts and to learn how the practices can make it ever more accessible, whether we are beginners to what we understand to be yoga or meditation or have been practicing seriously for years. We want this “now” in every moment. As we get more skilled, and part of developing our skills is challenging ourselves deeply in the controlled environment of class and our own practice so that we will spontaneously open to grace in the moment when, as my friend said, there is no viable choice but to be cheerful (to “open to grace”).
The “now” of Patanjali, the practice of “opening to grace” in Anusara yoga, is a way to teach those of us (like me) who do not otherwise learn or intuit from living itself that there is no viable choice other than cheerfulness in the face of the most difficult of challenges. The “now” conveys that it is now time to go deep, time to expand understanding and practice, time to discover truly how the practices can connect us to spirit and alleviate suffering. Now is the time to be and to learn better how to stay grounded in and connected to the flow of energies, not just so that you can face what you yourself might be experiencing, but also to have ever more space for love, compassion, support, and service for others who are in need. Now is the time to open to grace.
Photo from exhibit in San Francisco on the 10,000 year clock project.
My friend and fellow Anusara yoga instructor Naomi Gottlieb-Miller just sent out advance information about the event “Yoga Salutes Non-Violence,” where participants will do 108 sun salutations together, and all proceeds will benefit the Abused Persons Program, Montomery County’s domestic violence shelter. The practice is on November 5th at Willow Street Yoga. Students can attend advance Friday night practices to get ready for the event and also purchase cd’s for a small fee to practice at home.
Naomi writes: “It is our hope to not only raise money for such an important cause, but also to use these principles of yoga that guide our own lives to encourage transformation, empowerment and peace for those in need.”
Last night, I hopped on the bus and went from Capitol Hill to Columbia Heights to go square dancing. I haven’t square danced since elementary school, when we had two week sessions every year from third through sixth grade (I doubt, somehow, that they are still teaching square dancing as a needed physical exercise these days). It was interesting how much of the kinesthetic memory was still there, but it would not have mattered if I had not remembered. There were a lot of beginners, and the emphasis was on enthusiasm and enjoyment, not on getting it exactly right.
One thing that was noticeable about both the complete beginners and those who were very interested in demonstrating that they could do fancy variations was how little awareness there was of how those dancers related to the room as a whole or their squares. Even if there was some awareness of their partners, the beginners were to busy trying to figure out what to do at all to be able to think outside themselves or their partner, much less outside of their own square to the relationship of their square to those around them. Those that were eager to demonstrate their prowess took up as much space as they wanted to do their own dance, making it so that others had to move out of their way.
The truly skilled and aware dancers fostered the fullness of the dance, mindful of their own technique, their relationship to their partners and squares, and how their square fit into the dance hall as a whole, thus optimizing the freedom of the flow of the dance for everyone.
I think this dynamic in the dance reflects how we want to live as an individual within the fabric of being. If we are sluggish with ignorance, we will trod on others, when we could have a better relationship by making the time and effort to learn how to live more rightly and in alignment with the whole. When we just strive to show how great we are, heedless of how we impact other beings, we also disrupt the flow of being. To be truly engaged in the wondrous dance of being in a way that makes not only our own lives fuller, but enriches and enhances life around us, we must not only study and practice for ourselves and develop sensitivity and awareness in our intimate relationships and our relationships to our family and community, but also understand and act from a cognizance of the flow of life and energy outside our immediate world.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
I have been indulging in reading the thriller Angelology (complete with stories of angels and the war between good and evil), which I picked up at the Books for America shop in Dupont Circle a couple of weeks ago for the kind of night of reading that is the equivalent of a night of watching television if I had a television. Relatively early in the book, a professor says to one of the brilliant students who is a central character to the plot: “I have found that our texts will speak deeply to someone or they will say nothing whatsoever. It depends upon your sensitivity toward the subject. The mind and spirit become ripe in their own fashion and at their own pace. Beautiful music plays, but not everyone with ears can hear it.”
This statement encapsulated the ongoing thinking I do about my attraction to yoga and the tantric philosophy. I was contemplating especially deeply this week on my return from California, with no particular insight arising, what has drawn me in to this world of meditation and yoga. What am I doing, having been born in New York City and working as a civil servant in DC, coming from atheist Jewish grandparents and converted to Quakerism parents, finding such joy in learning Sankrit chants and working with energetic principles described in these ancient and medieval Indian texts? I do not doubt that the practices resonate and the texts speak to me and that the attraction is energetic, just as we are drawn to certain tastes and colors and entertainment and people and no interest arises from others. I just wonder why these practices and texts and not something else and why they hold me to such a degree that I am moved to teach them.
The two books I read while I was traveling to California (San Francisco for the delight of it and Lucerne Valley to study with Paul Muller-Ortega): Home of the Dancing Sivan, India in Mind.
The first I picked to bring because it was one on the bibliography Paul has given us to read that I had not yet read and was also something that I wanted to read in anticipation for my planned trip to to Chidambaram in December. By coincidence, while we were on this intensive, Paul showed us a video of a ceremony at Chidambaram, so I was glad to have read the book on the way there. The second, I picked up recently at the Bryn Mawr Lantern Bookshop, where I do regular volunteer work. India in Mind is an interesting collection–well-known Western voices writing about India, but collected by Pankaj Mishra, an Indian author who lives part of the time in London. Much in the collection I have read before, but the editing gives a very interesting perspective on how we in the West have related to and imagined India. More reading in preparation for my upcoming trip and for my continuing exploration of what has drawn me to the yoga over these many decades.
The five books I bought while in San Francisco (the first three from my every year or three pilgrimage to City Lights Bookstore; the last two from a used bookshop in Hayes Valley near Yoga Tree’s Hayes studio):
The Essential Tagore (a large and beautiful collection), Great Tales of Jewish Fantasy and the Occult (fantasy and magic from my ethnic heritage–why just concentrate on other cultures such as India?), White Hand Society (more on Allen Ginsberg and Timothy Leary, which ties in at a deep level to my Westerner’s understanding of Eastern mysticism); Wintering (I was captivated by Sylvia Plath in my teens and 20s; it looked like a nice book), The Violent Foam (wonderful and profoundly important poetry).
The other day, an acquaintance whom I met through yoga asked in an email whether I was still into politics or whether I was now more focused on my “inner work.” He lives in suburbia and voted for both Bushes and, at least in the early years, thought this country belonged in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. He practices asana and meditation, and eats a vegetarian diet, but he does it entirely for his own health and looks and not out of any evident intention of aligning with the flows and forces of nature or concern for all beings and the environment. For him, politics and yoga and meditation practices have nothing to do with each other.
I think it is wonderful that anyone takes care of their health and diet in a way that maximizes a health and a sense of well-being and minimizes the need to resort to medication and other Western medical care, which is a boon not only for the individual, but for the environment and for society in terms of cost.
For me, though, there is no separation between inner and outer work if one is living in the world and not in the cloister or the monastery. It is true that if one is out of inner alignment or unhealthy, it is not possible to be best aligned with nature, and thus, there is a need to do work for our self personally. But the true point of the practices is to help provide inner quiet, steadiness, and wisdom in our daily lives, which for a householder includes being an educated and active citizen.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
During one of our sessions, one of my fellow students asked whether she was really seeking a life of renunciation because she sometimes really craved sitting quietly for meditation. For her, having first experienced meditation as an adult who has a rich and comfortable life, even the shortest time sitting with eyes closed looking only within felt like it might be a denial of the outer world.
The practices Paul Muller-Ortega is teaching, and as he makes absolutely clear, are very much for the householder and are not the rarified path of a renunciate. Sitting in silence is a blissful and steady; it is going towards the inner world and not going away from the outer world.
We do not have to renounce our lives to sit regularly in silence. We can frankly delight in the sweetness of inner light and stillness and honor our desire to do so (a true renunciate would have to renounce even that desire). Meditation as part of the daily life of a householder, is a bedrock of support so that we can be ever more fully engaged in our lives, no matter how noisy they can get sometimes.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.