Contemplations on readings and yoga philosophy.
My friend K, whom I love and respect for her very self and for her sustained peace activism, had this attached to an email yesterday:
Rev. Howard Thurman (1899-1981): “Don’t ask what the world needs. Rather ask — what makes you come alive? Then go and do it! Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”
So good I wanted to re-share everywhere.
I took this picture the other day when I was walking to work. I have seen TV cameras set up at this spot dozens of times to film news interviews. I have seen tourists galore photographing each other. I’ve seen a couple of photo shoots of brides and grooms dressed in their wedding clothes. I’ve seen the fountain full of ducks or gulls. I’ve seen it empty of water, with rain pelting on it to eliminate any reflection, in a blizzard, iced over, full of algae, as a play spot for dogs who like to swim, in fog, in beating down sun, with cherry blossoms floating on the water, and with waves from a strong wind. Although (or more likely because) I’ve walked past this view hundreds of times in the 25 years I have lived on Capitol Hill and the 18 I have worked for the Department of Labor, I have never taken out my camera and photographed this incredibly photogenic spot.
When I took the photograph on this day when the reflection just happened to be perfect, it led me to see the spot the way tourists see it: full of freshness and wonder, beauty, and excitement to be in this place that represents a certain mind-blowing type of power. Reflecting on the act of taking the photo from my perspective as a resident, led me to think about the Anusara alignment principle of “opening to grace.”
One of the many aspects of “opening to grace” is having a “beginner’s mind.” What does it mean to have a beginner’s mind on or off the mat? I think it means being open to new insight, to a sense of joyous discovery, to a feeling of fresh intoxication and wonder, no matter how many times we have done or seen something before. How many times have you done lunge or downward facing dog? Eaten a green bean or a potato chip? Petted a dog? Turned on a light switch? Filled a glass with potable water out of the tap? If it is the “same old, same old,” then you will lose the desire to practice and the possibility of growing. But most of what we do, especially as we get older, is a repeat of something we have done before. Grasping at new experience as a cure for boredom or jadedness will only make us unhappy. If we can see each day with newly opened eyes, then we can find fulfillment in each moment and be better able to grow. We will be open to ever deepening refinement and exploration within the space of our existence.
This morning, when I called weather, the meteorologist announced that sunrise is at 7am, sunset at 6:58pm. As the nights grow longer than the days, it is a wonderful time to become more introspective, to use the principles of alignment to focus mind and body so that we are drawn ever more sweetly to our inner light.
In my classes this Fall, I will be emphasizing how we can use the Anusara principles of alignment to help continuously refine and focus our attention on our own and unifying sense of spirit.
The second sutra of the Siva Sutras is “jnanam bandhaha” (knowledge is bondage). In the context of the Siva Sutras, this tells us that getting caught in trying to acquire knowledge of the manifest world and all of its infinite minutiae can lead us away from a sense of connection to a universal spirit.
We have the phrase in the work place that the “devil is in the details” both because getting caught up in the details can take us away of accomplishing a desired result and because the details need to be worked out to realize the result, and the details (not the theory) are the hard part. At the societal level, for example, working out the details of a health care bill and how it will actually function seems to be preventing us, as a society, from offering health care to all. On our yoga mats, we need to understand the details of physical alignment so that the practice strengthens and optimizes our health, rather than taking us physically and energetically out of alignment, but we do not want concentration on the details to take us away from heart and spirit.
The “devil may be in the details” but we cannot stop the details from being part of our existence. As much as we need not to get so bogged down in the details that we have discord, distrust, unhappiness, and ineffectiveness, we also need to cultivate knowledge of the details. As beings embodied in space and time in the manifest world, we need to cultivate knowledge so that we can recognize when the details are not in optimal alignment, so that we have sufficient knowledge, strength, intuition, and subtlety to be able to shift the details so that they lead towards good for ourselves individually and collectively.
What a devilish conundrum.
One meaning of the phrase vinyasa krama is “the yoga of sequencing.” This is the art of knowing how to practice in an order that will be most optimal for where you are in space, time, and health in any given practice. Part of a true practice of vinyasa krama, like beautifully played music or an exquisitely presented music, is the silences and the pauses.
I’m sure you have all seen the “mind the gap” warning, the admonishment to notice the space between the train and the platform, the place where one thing ends and another begins. In that case, it is presented as a warning of danger, but it also can be seen just as an exhortation to be mindful.
When we are truly mindful of the space between things — both spatially and temporally — then we are better able to honor what has just come and to be open and conscious for what is to come.
In our yoga practice, noticing the space between coming in and coming out of the pose helps keep us aligned in the transition and enables us to better reap and experience the benefits of the pose. The reason we are advised always to practice savasana at the end of any practice is so that we will have a good pause between a practice and going back to our other activities.
Off the mat, taking time to pause in between thoughts and activities, helps us appreciate little moments of joy during a busy day. It also helps us sequence our day more optimally and can prevent mistakes and misalignments by giving us time to be more aware of what will work best next.
I went to a delightful brunch yesterday hosted by friend and neighbor K, who lives on the other side of the Hill. A number of the guests turned out to live within a couple of blocks of me on the Northeast side. In describing my house to those who lived farther from the Capitol than I (knowing my block was part of their usual walking path), I said, “mine is the one with the ‘War is not the answer‘” yard sign. “Oh yes, I know which one it is,” was the uniform response.
K said she did not have the yard sign because she did not want a negative message in her front yard. It served its purpose for a time, she claimed, but she wanted a more positive message. I replied that if the sign said “peace is the answer” it would not have the same p0litical meaning. People would just think, “yes, peace is nice, but whatever,” and keep walking. We all agreed that was likely, but I left still thinking about the conversation.
One of the reasons K gave for wishing to turn the sign on its head, was she did not want something renunciatory, and she referenced the principle of “negation” in Buddhism. I knew what she meant. Advaita vedanta has a phrase, “neti, neti” or “not this, not this” which means extinguishment of the individual self and a life of the senses and mind to unite with the ultimate Spirit. The Buddhist “nirvana” literally means “void.” I did not engage the conversation in such a way as to bring it to tantra lest I go too far in the direction of yoga geekiness, but the conversation certainly led me to think in that direction. Tantra seeks to do exactly what K was seeking: to turn the phrase, “not this, not this” into an embrace that will reveal truth and light by means of affirmation rather than negation.
Interestingly, though, I think a possible inspiration for K’s yard sign dilemma could come from from Buddhism: metta meditation (note: I have been offered this meditation in various settings and have practiced it many times, but it is not my regular meditation practice, so I hope I am not misinterpreting or mischaracterizing it here). The theory behind metta meditation is to distance one from anger to cultivate calm. In this creation of calm comes a general demeanor of loving kindness and compassion. I personally become calmer by embracing and aligning with all my emotions, including grief and anger, but still find the languaging of the metta practice beautifully inspiring.
In that spirit, I suggest as a possible rewording of the yard sign that still serves the political message, the call to serve: “may all beings be free from war.”
Or maybe FCNL should make a sign with the query: “what do I do in my life to remove the causes of war?” Is that still a negative, if we are calling for positive actions to remove causes?
Secretary Hilda Solis sent workers at the Department of Labor an email invitation yesterday to do some volunteer activity today to honor those who lost their lives in the tragedy of 9-11. She did not remind us of terror or enmity or need for war.
It resonated with what my teacher John Friend, who often discusses the need to serve as part of our practice, counsels in times of distress. He admits that it is not, as the t-shirt would have it, “all good.” We can choose, though, how to respond to violence, to suffering, to meanness, to evil. We can, he urges, seek to respond from “the highest.” We personally have the choice to try to bring light when we encounter darkness.
I do not always succeed, particularly with the small things, but I continue to try, and I deeply appreciate all the teachings and reminders I get.
Kashmir shaivism, using the term spanda, talks of the ultimate pulsation of life itself, all being a vibration, everything a play of opposites, a constant dance of concealment and revelation.
Yesterday I when I went to see Ang Lee’s Taking Woodstock, I thought about about what a dance of moments, desires, emotions, motivations, opportunities, and relationships made Woodstock the phenomenon it became.
I remembered when I was a teenager asking my mother why we had not gone; I had some idea that good family friends had made the trek from Long Island. She said it did not seem sensible to bring three girls under 10. I am sure that if we had gone, my memories would have been of being dirty, hungry, tired, wet, and overwhelmed. Instead, I grew up with the instant nostalgia of someone who was just a few years too young to make it up there on my own. In this contemplation, I marveled nearly as much at the play of spanda in my own life as in the world around me.
Bhagavan — another name for Shiva — literally means “possessing fortune, blessed, prosperous.”
What does it mean in this context to be possessed of fortune, to be blessed, to be prosperous?
What does it mean in the context of balancing individual and societal needs, hungers, and wants? What could it mean the current conversation about taxes, government spending, and healthcare? In the discussion of budget, war, etc?
We live at one level in a paradigm in which communal wealth is finite and is fought over to obtain individual wealth. How do we live within that paradigm and still find a sense of inner prosperity with what we have been given?
The other day, it was announced that following a controlled forest fire, a rare hybrid orchid that hasn’t been seen in the wild in Maryland for the past 70 years has emerged. This, I think, is such a wonderful example of the privileging of the destructive energy of of Shiva in the context of the triad of Brahma (creator), Vishnu (sustainer), and Shiva (destroyer).
Shiva in this context does not so much destroy for the sake of destroying, but is part of the inevitable and necessary part of life that strips away, dissolves, razes, eliminates, so that new life can emerge and be sustained.