It is a great privilege to be able to travel and to experience and witness what is made especially exciting to us by virtue of its difference. If we are open to it, though, we really need go not much further than our own back yards — I use that the term back yard metaphorically as I don’t really have one — or to shut our eyes and sit for meditation to witness the wondrous.
Lunchtime walk after the storm blew through.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
One of the ways I prepare for a restorative workshop is to spend some time looking for new music to play quietly in the background to enhance the fullness of the experience. In the past couple of days, I have enjoyed listening to quite a quantity of new and new to me music appropriate for my upcoming Finding the Warmth Inside: Relax Into Optimal Alignment with Anusara Restoratives on February 25th at Willow Street Yoga Center (click on the link for details and to register). Among the music I downloaded, which I am thoroughly enjoying (though it might be too upbeat for the restorative workshop playlist), is C.C. White’s “This is Soul Kirtan.”
As I was listening at my desk and swaying to the beat, I thought about the non-dual tantric philosophical principle that exhorts us to find the good in everything, to recognize that in all there is still a “divine” spark that is expressed in the creative effulgence of the universe itself. The music is joyous, delightful, offered with love, delivered with a high degree of professionalism–both the musical performance and the recording and presentation. I tried to fathom just how many centuries of human migration, suffering, oppression, bigotry, and then fighting for tolerance, education, equal rights, spirit, and freedom had to occur for this music to be able to exist at all and to be published and embraced, it being an extravagant blend of Indian spiritual/religious practice, American soul and blues (and all its history), and classical Western musical technique.
“Wow!” exclaimed the well-dressed woman who was walking towards the Senate office buildings as I was walking in the opposite direction to the DOL through the park on the North side of the Capitol. We had both paused absolutely still to appreciate the drama of the moment.
A raptor flew in and landed on one of the high tree branches. There were a few warning chirps and calls and then everything froze into stillness and silence. After a few minutes the bird flew off, and gradually the squirrels, sparrows, starlings, etc resumed their usual morning activities.
“Did you notice how every thing became still?” I replied.
“Yes,” said my companion in the moment of appreciation and observation. “It hardly seemed real.”
We then moved on to go about our business, becoming conscious again of the noise of the city as the small animals and birds went back to their usual activities.
I looked it up when I got to work. It was most likely an immature Cooper’s hawk.
I did not even think to photograph the moment lest I disturb it. These are the trees after the fact.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
Gertrude Stein quote on wall at exhibit at the National Portrait Gallery.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
I bought in India this sweet image of ganesha. When I came home, I had the treat of going shopping for here and looking though dozens of strands of beads until I found just the right ones to complement the colors in the painting and the energy of the image. The brown and green tones of chunky turquoise felt just right. In creating the necklace, I took the time to see how the individual stones related to each other both in shape and color. Just as taking time to get in alignment can enable us to create beauty out of challenge, so to, taking the time to arrange the stones makes the difference between something merely strung together and an artistic creation.
This article about manners and eating with ones hands gave me a big smile. One of my friends who went on the second India pilgrimage wrote on Facebook right after she returned home that she missed wearing a sari and eating thali meals already. How wonderful the variety of experience on these journeys. Personally, I found the sari cumbersome and binding and not worth the prettiness of the fabric and the compliments (more thoughts on sari-wearing perhaps to come). I was thrilled to get back into my regular clothes (though I was happy enough in salwar kameez). Dal , kitcheree (spiced lentils and rice porridge), and vegetarian/vegan curries have long been a staple part of my diet, so I am already getting the rice and lentils, and the south Indian thali meal is almost completely devoid of vegetables. I was happy enough to get back to my own diet, including Indian-style food of my own preparation.
I am missing, though, being able to be in company and eat with my hands (or hand singular would be more accurate as it is horribly rude in India to eat with your left hand) and getting the chance to walk barefoot outside every day. Though you might not be able to do it everywhere, I highly recommend eating some of your food with your hands and walking without your shoes for some time every day to enhance your sense of touch and your motility.
A friend from the DC Sunday contact improv jam (one of my favorite places to play) sent this link showing a clip from a documentary in progress about the importance of play to our health. One of the things that I love most about Anusara yoga is that John Friend has always described its practice as being “seriously playful.” I was born serious nature and have worked hard in my adulthood to learn to play spontaneously, and what is being offered here resonates for me.
This is a long clip, but well worth the time. Anusara yogis, notice how familiar some of it sounds. Enjoy!
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
I was working with photos today and came across this shot a friend took a little over a year ago. Long gone is the memory of exactly why I did not stay fully in the pose. Perhaps this was the beginning, and I was planning to plant my hand, lift my shoulder and hug my shoulder blades onto my back, and then do enough inner spiral and kidney loop to float off the ground. Possible, as I have been known to get into asta vakrasana going from the ground up. More likely, my exit strategy of the moment was releasing all the way to the floor. What I like about this picture is that it shows me having a really good time, not me being a failure for not being perfectly in the pose. Though it is always worth striving for the best we can do, for most things in life, the best we can do is try for the full pose and then find the joy and the beauty when we don’t end up embodying our notion of what should have been.
