These stickers have been around town for awhile; I first noticed them during one of the big marches. I assume that it is meant to be ironic. The idea of fighting for non-violence, though, certainly highlights the degeneration of much of our political dialogue into an us versus them fighting stance, even for those seeking peace or social justice.
The truth of the matter is that just as we cannot realize inner peace by forcing our mind to be quiet, and we put ourselves at risk in our asana practice if we force ourselves into poses to realize external notions of advancement that mirror our conventional cultural values, so too, we will not open the way to peace if we fight for it using the paradigms of the two-party system that now serves the military-industrial complex instead of expanding recognition of the needs of all to be connected and nurtured.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
When I paused to photograph this marker on a DC sidewalk yesterday, I wondered how many hundreds of people have walked past it–once or hundreds of times–without noticing it at all. I connected this sense of acute awareness with a conversation I had with Douglas Brooks in India, in which he said to me that he guaranteed that at that moment he was seeing more than I was seeing. He had experienced the place before, studied it extensively and intensively, and was still open to seeing. I did not take offense and none was meant. I am one who notices, but it is a given that study and experience, if one retains an openness to new understanding, maximizes the opportunity to witness.
Paul Muller-Ortega describes the expanding ability to see and understand in terms of the essential interrelationship between jnana and vijnana–book knowledge and experiential knowledge. One without the other does not permit for complete understanding. The two together, with ever-expanding and present openness is what leads to wisdom.
Thus, though I am one who tends to notice much of what is in my field of vision, I could not, on my first visit, possibly have seen as much in the immediate landscape as one who has devoted much of his life both to studying and experiencing it.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
Only after walking along the two lane streets in a sari and sandals, sharing the road with exhaust-fume spewing buses, three-wheelers, motorcycles, mopeds, bicycles, cows, goats, dogs, street vendors, and pedestrians amidst dust, puddles, sewage, potholes, cowpats, dog shit, goat turds, and piles of organic and non-biodegradable trash, could one understand how a campaign to end the practice of littering would link it to evil. Thanks to my fellow traveler Eric for pointing out this sign.
On the last morning of the trip, when we were standing next to the bus (how blessed we were to have a well-driven, air-conditioned bus to take us through southern India; I was most grateful and conscious of its protective bubble) getting ready to head north for Chennai, I noticed that there were limes under the wheels of the bus. I was standing next to Douglas Brooks, the leader of the trip. “Why are there limes under the wheels?” I asked. “To feed the demons,” he replied, “so that they do not feed on you. We make offering (bali dana) for auspicious memories and a safe trip home.” The offering to the demons, bali dana, recognizes, I think, that we cannot eradicate demons. We can feed them, though, avert their gaze with our offering to something they find more desirable and delicious than feeding on us.
On our last day of riding the bus, we were witness to the aftermath of a cyclone that downed trees and shut down power and tore roofs off of houses and rutted roads (thanks to all who noticed that I was in that part of the world and sent emails inquiring about our safety). When it hit, we were far enough south that all we got was a little rain. We flew out long enough after it showed, that it did not impact our flight, which went perfectly smoothly. I do not know whether putting limes under the wheels of the bus made any difference to the external flow of our trip. I do know, though, that I cannot kill off my demons; they are an essential part of me and my history. Shifting the gaze of my demons and shifting my own gaze at my demons, though, is another matter entirely. When we can turn our gaze (drishti) to the auspicious, even when looking through the eyes of our demons, that is when we can truly see what is best in things and better be able to respond with true embrace to whatever life hands us.
The attached photo of devotees at a kumkum-reddened shrine to Hanuman is just a taste of the extraordinary things I have been privileged to experience and witness in this journey. I think that there as many reasons to go on a pilgrimage and as many experiences of it as there are people. For both the challenges and the wonders, I have been given a chance to feel and shift and explore myself at the deepest levels.
As you know, I had planned to take a mini-sabbatical from posting photos and writing while I was on the trip. I was faced with an opportunity, though, from a lesson in both non-attachment and gratitude that opened up this opportunity to share.
On our first full day in Madurai, we went to see the famous Meenakshi temple. The experience at this temple was different from that we had in other temples for two significant reasons. The first was that the inner sanctum was rigidly restricted only to Hindus. Ironically, this correspondingly led to a permission to take photographs within the temple (usually forbidden) because we who are allowed only in the other parts of the temple are viewed more like tourists than worshippers.
Right before we went to the temple, my camera reported that the battery was exhausted; intermittent power the night before must have prevented my getting it properly charged. I took out my Blackberry as a second best alternative. It had somehow turned itself on and depleted the charge looking for a radio signal even though I had turned off both the phone and Internet connections. I couldn’t imagine making it through the rest of day without being able to take another photograph, and it appeared that I had no choice other than to call in what I have learned from yoga practice about non-attachment. (Yes, I recognize that for even the most avid of amateur photographers, this was not a big loss).
As grace would have it, though, a fellow enthusiastic photographer on the trip hearing of my predicament understood completely. He had three cameras and his fiancee also had one. He handed me the extra camera and showed me the basics. The next day, he uploaded the photos I had shot onto my IPad, giving me a lesson in technology, along with the loan of the camera. I may have avoided having to practice non-attachment for this minor moment of potential disappointment, but I was definitely gifted with a big opportunity to practice gratitude. Having been the recipient of this gift, I wanted to share a little with you.
I look forward to sharing more images and stories when I return, especially with all of my students when winter classes resume in January.
I am planning to be unwired for the next couple of weeks, though if there is an opportunity for a wireless connection or to use hotel internet, I may check emails. I will be in touch when I go back on-line. In the meantime, this is to wish you the best of holidays.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
