Food for the Mind (Yoga Philosophy, etc)

Contemplations on readings and yoga philosophy.

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    Fraying at the Seams (and Samskaras)

    I have spent most of the last three days working from home so that I could be on site while repairs ensuing from the earthquake and hurricane were done.  I’ve been luckier than most in the path.  The damages I sustained from these extreme forces of nature can all can be repaired with relative ease.  The leak in the living room was from gaps between the house and the windowsill and the porch roof and the house.  The leaks in the upstairs bathroom were from screws attaching the skylight to the roof having been shaken loose.  The 100-year old gutter pulled away from the house and sprang some leaks, but can get wait another year or so with just being patched instead of replaced.  The cracks in the brick and the mortar dislodged and completely washed away call for repointing before winter, but that was going to have to be done in the next five or six years anyway.  Several more things got loosened or lifted up or away from where they were supposed to be, but that is why god made caulk guns and foam sealant in spray cans.

    What I find interesting about looking at the damage is that the worst of it was at places that previously required repairs during my 21+ years in the house; some of these, based on the way the ceilings had already bulged or cracked when I moved in were evidently chronic trouble spots perhaps since the house was built.  Why those places?  It could be the soil on which the house sits, the direction it faces, the activities of neighbors, the presence and absence of trees around the house, the minor, but daily tremor caused by the D6  bus.  If something was going to come apart at the seams in the house, it is not surprising it came apart where it is inclined to come apart and even less surprising that Hurricane Irene created more damage because the house was already fraying at the seams because of the earthquake (and the continuing aftershocks).  The places that came apart under stress were the places where the old repairs did not reintegrate fully into the integrity of the design and function of the house.   Those are still are the vulnerable spots, the places most likely to come apart in a blizzard or a hurricane or an earthquake.  The better and more thoughtfully integrated into the rest of the structure of the house a repair, though, the more likely it is to cease to be a spot for future repairs.  Some old repairs that were done mindfully have ceased even to be remembered as places where a repair was required.

    The same sort of pulling apart at the edges, at the weak spots, at the less than optimal repairs of old injuries, as happened with the house in the past few weeks, happens to me when challenges and opportunities for personal growth pile on, as they have been doing for me for the past several weeks, starting with things wholly unrelated to the weather.  Although I am taking things in stride and with ever more flexibility and openness the more I practice, I can feel my familiar default setting–anxiety and sadness–emerging at the stress points.  None of the personal things that had come up before the earthquake and hurricane, nor the impact of both and the preparation for the latter, alone would have been enough to shake me up much.  As they become a basketful, though, I can feel my old tendencies closer to the surface with each thing that gets added into the experience.

    Just like the places where the house tends to come apart, my tendency to get anxious and the triggers for the anxiety are familiar spots.  They have been there for decades.  Perhaps they came from another life.  For the house, the original spots may have started with the materials–the character of the trees and stones and mud and ore out of which the house was built.  Some of my stress points I recognize in my parents and my grandparents whether or not they come from previous lives of my own, some are related to my physical make-up, some from the exact place and time of my birth.

    These tendencies of ours are samskaras — the ingrained patterns that are the results from our actions, impressions — some deeper than others — in the very fabric of our being that shape how we behave and respond to what comes, thus creating more samskaras.  The more we respond in our habitual way, the more imbedded become the samskaras and the more they keep us from being conscious of and aligned with the fullness of being.  One of the key benefits of practicing (meditation and other practices) is to lessen how impressionable we are, that is, to make it so that new stresses do not deepen old patterns or create additional patterns that take us out of alignment with the flow of being.

    As I feel old stuff getting churned up, I seek to dissolve and benignly release it through my practices, while  steadily, and as mindfully as I can, doing what needs to be done to get on with this fully-engaged householder life at this wild time.  It is one of my intentions to practice sufficiently so that I will be able to be in the flow and respond in the highest no matter what comes.  There will likely be more and greater challenges than what I have already in this lifetime experienced.

     

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    Late Summer Newsletter–Web Version (Earthquakes, Hurricanes, and the Three A’s)

    Dear Friends,

    After a summer of drought, we just experienced inside the Beltway the power when the earth shudders and shakes in an east coast earthquake of unusual magnitude.  Now, less than a week after the earthquake, I take appropriate precautions and follow with deep caring the unfolding predictions, photos, commentary, and human reaction on a collective and individual level to the impending traverse up the east coast of Hurricane Irene.

    Watching the hurricane reports has led me to remember what it was like when Hurricane Isabel was approaching DC in the summer of 2003.  The day before was gloriously sunny and bright–the way we want summer to be and there was no reason yet to cancel classes nor, once suitable precautions and preparations were made at home. to do anything other than enjoy the day to its fullest.  Fewer students than usual came for class; others must have been preparing or attending to other business.  The ones who came said that the impending storm made them want to practice together even more than usual.

    Though I rarely lead chants other than the Anusara Invocation in class, I was moved to lead my students in a chant to Kali–fierce goddess of destruction.  Chanting to Kali allowed us to focus our profound respect for the forces of nature and the dance of the universe throughout the whole of the practice.  Our ability to express our awe and our yearning to flow with the currents and eddies of these extraordinary forces instead of feeling powerless or angry was enhanced by sensitive and careful attention to alignment.

    Practicing the three A’s of Anusara yoga–attitude, alignment, and action–for me seems to apply profoundly to the way we want to prepare for and experience what comes with events demonstrating extreme forces of nature.  When we challenge ourselves on the mat we both honor our edge and seek to expand it.  We use the alignment principles in every aspect of a pose to express a perfect respect for the amazing concatenation of abilities and limitations that is human embodiment.  For me, taking what I have learned on the mat practicing with the three A’s has helped make it possible to shift how I am able to respond to whatever comes.  There is not much that serves as a better reminder of how much will just come, no matter how much we prepare and study than earthquakes and hurricanes.  We need to appreciate, though, that while we are not in control, we are not without power.  The power is in choosing how to respond, how we are going to put into practice off the mat, as well as on, the principles of attitude, alignment, and action.

    I believe to the very core of my being that we must have profound awe and respect for the mystery and power of the dance of the universe (put that how you will) and love for it, too.   We should be expanding and using existing knowledge of how most safely to weather a huricane or other extreme forces (I am choosing not to say “disasters”).  It is important to take care of ourselves to get into the space where we are most likely to be able to have awe triumph over fear, hopelessness, frustration, or anger because plans have been thwarted and, more important, to find the best path possible in the face of serious loss or harm.  Perhaps this is too easy for me to say, knowing that it will be mostly ok for me; my house does well in storms, and we are only on the edge.  I am more concerned for friends and family all up the east coast and especially Long Island and New York.

    In class on Saturday, with or just ahead of the first band of rain, we will be chanting to Kali.  Maybe like last time, we will all have power when the lights around us go out, but that was just a happy side effect (or coincidence, depending on how you look at it) and not the purpose.  The purpose of chanting will be to remind ourselves to prepare to the best of our abilities and then let go of outcome and hang on for the ride.

    Hope to see you in class soon.  My summer class at Willow Street goes through the Saturday of Labor Day weekend, and I will be here.  Registration is open for the fall session at Willow Street.  My Saturday noon class continues, and I will also be leading the ninth annual Thanksgiving Day fundraiser for Oxfam.

    The William Penn House class is an ever-deepening weekly adventure.  Come join us.

    May all be safe and well.
    Peace and light,
    Elizabeth

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    National Cathedral

    As I witnessed my cozy house shaking and rattling in this my first really measurable earthquake, I got a much deeper appreciation of  just how quickly things can fall apart despite apparent solidity.  It felt clear to my very core that to be able to weather whatever comes what we need to know as unshakable  is our own deepest self.  What happens when the emblems of faith, such as the National Cathedral, are shaken by the strength and awesome power of nature?

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    Signs Around Town (and Dharma)

    We tend to think of giving our lives in terms of willingness to die, but is not any life lived in accordance with dharma a life dedicated to the service of what is greater, one in which we abandon gratification for aligning with a higher purpose?

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

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    Thoughts About Wearing a Sari

    It is my understanding that unless I wear a sari, I will not be able to go into some of the places that are on the itinerary for the trip to India I will be joining. “Just think of it as playing dress-up,” suggested my sister when I told her the idea of wearing a sari perturbs me. It is not just feeling strange in foreign dress and having to expose that vulnerable fold of flesh at the waist (I have never even owned a bikini because of my discomfort in exposing my waist). What is unsettling me is that to witness what the men can witness while wearing comfortable clothing, the women must agree to wear confining, complicated, and cumbersome clothes. And the sari has come for centuries with the expectation that the woman demurely follows behind doing what she is told by the designated man.

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

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    Quote of the Moment (and Happy Birthday Anusara)

    Today is the 13th anniversary of Anusara yoga being officially named Anusara yoga. I am filled with love and gratitude for John Friend and all my friends and teachers who are sharing this extraordinary practice.

    In thanks for the delighted and celebratory invitation to the practice, which for me is a hallmark of the Anusara offering, I share this quote:

    “The more the yogi practices, the more visible everything becomes (yavad idam sarvam drstam).” Vedavyasa, quoted in David Gordon White, Sinister Yogis.

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