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What Happens When We Practice Santosha? (just the music) February 7, 2021

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Please join me for a 65-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Sunday, February 7th) at 2:30 PM, CST. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. Give yourself extra time to log in if you have not upgraded to Zoom 5.0. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below.

Sunday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.

In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.)

### 🎶 ###

Concentrate/Meditate on the Continuum (the Saturday post) February 7, 2021

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[This is the post for Saturday, February 6th. You can request an audio recording of Saturday’s practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.

In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.

Check out the “Class Schedules” calendar for upcoming classes.]

 

“When we first undertake the art of meditation, it is indeed frustrating. Inevitably, as our mind wanders and our body feels the tension it has accumulated and the speed to which it is addicted, we often see how little inner discipline, patience, and compassion we actually have. It doesn’t take much time with a spiritual task to see how scattered and unsteady our attention remains even when we try to direct and focus it. While we usually think of it as “our mind,” if we look honestly, we see the mind follows its own nature, conditions, and laws. Seeing this, we also see that we must gradually discover a wise relationship to the mind that connects it to the body and heart, and steadies and calms our inner life.

 

The essence of this connecting is the bringing back of our attention again and again to the practice we have chosen.”

 

 

– quoted from “Chapter 5 – Training the Puppy: Mindfulness of Breathing” in A Path with Heart: A Guide Through the Perils and Promises of Spiritual Life by Jack Kornfield

 

There are certain persistent misconceptions about meditation. One, that it is really easy for some people and that for everyone else it is torture. Two, that if your attention bounces around a lot then you are going to be one of those people who is “bad” at meditation. Three, that by sheer force of will, you can just sit down, “empty your mind, and think about nothing.”

 

Here’s the reality.

 

First, if you practice any kind of contemplation or mindfulness for any significant period of time, you are going to have “good days” where you just seem to drop right into the zone and nothing bothers you; and you’re going to have “bad days” where your mind doesn’t seem to be able to stay focused on a single thing for longer than a few seconds. Second, everybody’s mind bounces around a lot – that’s the very definition of cittavŗtti – yet some people are still “good” at meditation. And yes, it’s true, some people’s minds bounce around a lot more than others, frantically jumping from one sensation to another; however, the fact that the mind is in hyper drive doesn’t mean that someone cannot sit still and focus. Third, practicing requires effort, but not necessarily sheer, brute force. Also, while I might not use the phrase “empty your mind and think about nothing,” some people use that as a description of an experience I would describe as pratyāhāra (which is literally defined as “pulling the mind from every direction and in every respect to a focal point”) – so, rather than emptying the mind, one is filling it (infusing it) with a single point of focus.

 

But, even that’s not quite right.

 

Like many yoga, meditation, and mindfulness teachers, I often use the words “single-pointed focus” as if it is part of an introductory practice. In reality, however, it’s more of the middle or end of a practice. When we first sit down to focus-concentrate-meditate the mind-body is filled with the logistics of sitting: the body is aligned this way; ok, now the eyes are here and the breath is like this; ok, now I’m focusing on X… but X is a representation of xyz and now my mind is thinking about z… So, I come back to the body, the breath, and X… and all that X means; and now I’m thinking about the fact that I’m sitting here, breathing here, and thinking X… that represents xyz, which reminds me of A… and now I’m thinking about A (or c)…. So, I come back to the body, the breath, and X… and all that X represents – but I’m not thinking about z now, because if I do….I have to start all over again.

 

That’s the way it goes, that’s the practice. And that doesn’t even include the external distractions like a door closing or people talking in another room, a fly buzzing around, the memory that you might have forgotten to do something, the sleepiness that sometimes creeps in, and/or that part of your body that always seems to itch when you sit still for a few minutes.

 

But, that’s the practice – at least, that’s the beginning of the practice. When we first begin, we are aware of the object of our focus (and all its different layers), the process that it takes to stay focused, and the fact that we are the entity engaged in the process of focusing on the object that has different layers. For some practitioners this stage of the practice will be just a quick moment, for others it might be their whole sit; but, either way, it’s not “single-pointed,” it’s multi-pointed.

 

At some point, however, just as Patanjali explains in Yoga Sūtra 1.17, we move from the gross conscious awareness to a more subtle conscious awareness and then into a bliss state – where it feels good and “easy” – and then finally into that stage of I-ness which marks the beginning of absorption. What we find, through the practice is that the absorption that makes the experience truly “single-pointed” is just like “yoga” and just like “svarūpe” (“true nature”): It’s a process as well as a state.

 

 

Yoga Sūtra 3.1: deśabandhah cittasya dhāranā

 

 

– “Dhāranā is the process of holding, focusing, or fixing the attention of mind onto one object or place.”

Yoga Sūtra 3.2: tatra pratyaya-ikatānatā dhyānam

 

 

– “Dhyāna is the repeated continuation, or unbroken flow of thought, toward that one object or place.”

Patanjali’s Yoga Sūtras provides an outline of the process as well as descriptions of the desired states that can be achieved through the practice as well as the less desired obstacles and conditions that may be experienced along the way. The sūtras definitely provide some “shortcuts,” but they are only accessible to those who are willing to fully commit and surrender. For everyone else, achieving that “single-pointed” focusing and harnessing the power of the mind-body requires mastering āsana (“seat” or pose, and therefore the body); then mastering prāņāyāma (“awareness and extension of [breath], and therefore the mind); in order to transcend the gross and subtle levels of conscience awareness of the breath. Once one transcends the gross and subtle levels of conscience awareness, one can experience pratyāhāra (“drawing the senses to a focal point”), which enables one to focus, concentrate, and meditate.

Another way to think of this is that once your body is stable and comfortable, your breath deepens. Once you bring awareness to the breath, deepening, prāņāyāma becomes pratyāhāra; pratyāhāra becomes dhāranā; dhāranā becomes dhyāna; and dhyāna becomes samādhi. Sometimes we move through these states in an instant, without really being conscious of the transition and other times it takes a lot of committed practice.

But, before you get it twisted, make sure to notice (and remember) one critical factor: We have all experienced these states – if even for just a moment! Some of us have experienced these states on a mat, on a cushion, on a prayer, rug, on a pew, or even on a mountain trail. Some of us have experienced it with a book, a friend or family member, a lover, or a work project. We have experienced it with music and dance and other forms of art. Sometimes we are very deliberately and very intentionally working towards the experience and other times it is just what the mind does, because it is capable of doing it.

“This meditative state is the highest state of existence. So long as there is desire, no real happiness can come. It is only the contemplative, witness-like study of objects that brings to us real enjoyment and happiness. The animal has its happiness in the senses, the man in his intellect, and the god in spiritual contemplation. It is only to the soul that has attained to this contemplative state that the world really becomes beautiful. To him who desires nothing, and does not mix himself up with them, the manifold changes of nature are one panorama of beauty and sublimity.

These ideas have to be understood in Dhyana, or meditation. We hear a sound. First, there is the external vibration; second, the nerve motion that carries it to the mind; third, the reaction from the mind, along with which flashes the knowledge of the object which was the external cause of these different changes from the ethereal vibrations to the mental reactions. These three are called in Yoga, Shabda (sound), Artha (meaning), and Jnâna (knowledge). In the language of physics and physiology they are called the ethereal vibration, the motion in the nerve and brain, and the mental reaction. Now these, though distinct processes, have become mixed up in such a fashion as to become quite indistinct. In fact, we cannot now perceive any of these, we only perceive their combined effect, what we call the external object. Every act of perception includes these three, and there is no reason why we should not be able to distinguish them.

When, by the previous preparations, it becomes strong and controlled, and has the power of finer perception, the mind should be employed in meditation. This meditation must begin with gross objects and slowly rise to finer and finer, until it becomes objectless. The mind should first be employed in perceiving the external causes of sensations, then the internal motions, and then its own reaction. When it has succeeded in perceiving the external causes of sensations by themselves, the mind will acquire the power of perceiving all fine material existences, all fine bodies and forms. When it can succeed in perceiving the motions inside by themselves, it will gain the control of all mental waves, in itself or in others, even before they have translated themselves into physical energy; and when he will be able to perceive the mental reaction by itself, the Yogi will acquire the knowledge of everything, as every sensible object, and every thought is the result of this reaction. Then will he have seen the very foundations of his mind, and it will be under his perfect control.”

 

 

– quoted from “Chapter VII: Dhyana and Samadhi” in The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda, Volume 1, Raja-Yoga by Swami Vivekananda

 

Saturday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for the “04192020 Noticing Things” playlist.]

You may notice that the playlist is longer than normal – that’s because it’s actually two (2) different playlists. If you are using the music, you get to choose your musical focus.

 

### NOTICE WHAT YOU NOTICE + BRING AWARENESS TO YOUR AWARENESS ###

Concentrate/Meditate on the Continuum (just the music) February 6, 2021

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Uncategorized.
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Please join me for a 90-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Saturday, February 6th) at 12:00 PM. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. Give yourself extra time to log in if you have not upgraded to Zoom 5.0. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below.

Saturday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for the “04192020 Noticing Things” playlist. ]

You may notice that the playlist is longer than normal – that’s because it’s actually two (2) different playlists. If you are using the music, you get to choose your musical focus.

In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). If you don’t mind me knowing your donation amount you can also donate to me directly. Donations to Common Ground are tax deductible; class purchases and donations directly to me are not necessarily deductible.)

### 🎶 ###

Observing the Conditions… of the Heart (the Friday post) February 6, 2021

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[This is the post for the “First Friday Night Special: ‘Observing the Conditions of the Heart’” – on Friday, February 5th. You can request an audio recording of this special practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.

In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.

Check out the “Class Schedules” calendar for upcoming classes.]

“When we ask, ‘Am I following a path with heart?’ we discover that no one can define for us exactly what our path should be. Instead, we must allow the mystery and beauty of this question to resonate within our being. Then somewhere within us an answer will come and understanding will arise. If we are still and listen deeply, even for a moment, we will know if we are following a path with heart.”

 

 

– quoted from “Chapter I – Did I Love Well” in A Path with Heart: A Guide Through the Perils and Promises of Spiritual Life by Jack Kornfield

 

In general, “discernment” is one’s “ability to judge well” and to see (or perceive) clearly and accurately. In a secular sense, that good judgement is directly tied to perception of the known world (psychologically, morally, and/or aesthetically). However, “discernment” has certain other qualities in a religious context and, in particular, in a Christian context. In Christianity, the perception related to discernment is based on spiritual guidance and an understanding of God’s will. In his Spiritual Exercises, Saint Ignatius of Loyola gets even more specific: Ignatian spirituality requires noticing the “interior movements of the heart” and, specifically, the “spirits” that motivate one’s actions.

Saint Ignatius believed in a “good spirit” and an “evil spirit” that would use similar methods to guide one either towards peace, love, and eternal bliss or towards sin and more sin. For example, if one is already in the habit of committing mortal sins, then the “evil spirit” will emphasize the mortal pleasures that might be found in a variety of vices – while simultaneously clouding awareness of the damage that is being done. On the other hand, the “good spirit” in this scenario “uses the opposite method, pricking them and biting their consciences through the process of reason.”

If however, a person is striving to live in a virtuous and sacred manner then the “evil spirit” will create obstacles, offer temptation, and in all manners of ways attempt to distract one from the sacred path; while the “good spirit” provides “courage and strength, consolations, tears, inspirations and quiet, easing, and putting away all obstacles, that one may go on in well doing.” It can get really confusing, on the outside, which is why discernment requires turning inward and taking a look at one’s self.

Yoga Sūtra 2.44: svādhyāyādişţadevatāsamprayogah

 

– “From self-study comes the opportunity to be in the company of bright beings [of our choice].”

 

The fourth niyamā (“internal observation”) in the Yoga Philosophy is svādhyāyā (“self-study”) which is a form of discernment whereby one looks at themself – their thoughts and reactions – in relation to sacred text, chants, or even historical scenarios. Saint Ignatius’ Spiritual Exercises fit firmly within this rubric in that they entail a period of prayer and self-study during which a person places themself within the context of the life of Jesus (and the disciples) and considers how they feel, what they sense, and what motivates them in any given direction. Just like in the yoga practices, the ultimate goal of the Spiritual Exercises is to cultivate an awareness of the spiritual heart that enables one to release attachment to likes and dislikes (which are include in Patanjali’s descriptions of afflicted/dysfunctional thought patterns that lead to suffering) and move through the world with Divine purpose.

Every religious, spiritual, and philosophical path holds up one or more examples of the ideal end goal. Christians think of this end goal as “becoming more Christ-like,” and may also emulate saints like Saint Paul the Apostle, Saint Francis of Assisi, or Mother Teresa. Jewish people may emulate Abraham, Moses, a Biblical heroine like Esther, or a great rabbi like Hillel the Elder, Rabbi Yohanan ben Zakkai, or Rabbi Akiva. In Islām, people follow the example of the Prophet Muhammed and Aisha, as well as prophets like Abraham, Moses, and even Jesus. In Buddhism, the gold standard is the Buddha and a person on the path to Buddhahood is a bodhisattva (although, some traditions have a more specific description). All of these examples share a strong connection to the wisdom of the heart and the power of sacred/spiritual love. All of these examples communed with their hearts – and discernment, as a spiritual exercise (in any tradition), is the practice of cultivating a dialogue with one’s heart.

“It is possible to speak with our heart directly. Most ancient cultures know this. We can actually converse with our heart as if it were a good friend. In modern life we have become so busy with our daily affairs and thoughts that we have forgotten the essential art of taking time to converse with our heart. When we ask it about our current path, we must look at the values we have chosen to live by. Where do we put our time, our strength, our creativity, our love? We must look at our life without sentimentality, exaggeration, or idealism. Does what we are choosing reflect what we most deeply value?”

 

 

– quoted from “Chapter I – Did I Love Well” in A Path with Heart: A Guide Through the Perils and Promises of Spiritual Life by Jack Kornfield

 

Many traditions have a practice of “sitting with” a question. In some practices, the “sitting” is quite literally sitting; breathing, not thinking about the question, but definitely holding the question in one’s heart. In some yoga traditions, the practice of vichāra (which roughly translates into English as “deliberation”) consists of a series of questions that drill down to the core essence of one’s motivations.

In the Heart to Heart Guidebook: A Spiritual Journey for Women and the From the Heart Journal: A Personal Prayer Journal for Women, Patricia D. Brown outlines a practice for groups of women to dialogue with their own hearts while dialoguing with the hearts of others. The journal includes lots of prompts, including a series of questions (courtesy of Portia Nelson’s There’s a Hole in my Sidewalk) to help one recognize potential pitfalls in their life as well as questions to help one honor the people and things that support the heart. She also includes a series of prompts which she refers to as puzzle pieces. In this practice, I ask the following questions based on or inspired by her puzzle pieces:

During Introductions: What is on your heart today? (Note: The prompt IS NOT ‘what is heavy on your heart?’ It is simply, ‘What is on your heart today?’

 

After 1st Dandasana:

  1. My greatest fear is…
  2. What is on your mind?
  3. A project or plan I worry may fail is…
  1. Note a most embarrassing moment
  2. Note a most desperate moment 
  3. Note a tragic moment
  1. When in your life are/were you the most driven?
  2. When in your life are/were you the least driven?
  3. What’s the emotion you hide (from yourself or others)?

The questions also circle back to the questions in the Jack Kornfield quotes:

  • Am I following a path with heart?
  • Where do we put our time, our strength, our creativity, our love?
  • Does what we are choosing reflect what we most deeply value?

Since I recently had a conversation with a friend who mentors professionals from a spiritual perspective and also listened to a related talk, I’ve had Enneagrams on my mind and, to a certain degree, on my heart. In the most general sense, the Enneagram system is an ancient system of archetypes that breaks down the human psyche into nine interconnected personality types. The nine types are bundled into three sub-types – which I have seen described in different ways, but make the most sense to me as “Body,” “Heart,” and “Head.” Even someone who is not familiar with (or interested in) the Enneagram system, will appreciate the idea of making decisions from “the gut;” from the heart or emotions; and/or from a purely logical, fact-based perspective. And so, I propose observing the conditions of the heart by seeing how the “Body,” “Heart,” and “Head” react to the questions…and to the answers.

Notice what comes up immediately. Notice from where the “answer” arises. Notice how the different parts of you feel about the answer that arises. Notice what you’re thinking about what is arising. Notice if there are questions, answers, and/or thoughts that surprise you. Notice if there are any from which you want to immediately turn away.

And do all of this with your heart gently open or gently supported. Breathe. Listen. Respond.

“There was a girl in Paris
Whom he sent a letter to
Hoping she would answer back
Now wasn’t that a fool
Hardy notion on the part of a
Sometimes lonely musician
Acting out a whim is only good
For a condition of the heart”

 

 

– quoted from the song “Condition of the Heart” by Prince

We’re human. We all have a desire to feel connected; to have someone hear us, see us, and understand us. In other words, we all have a “condition of the heart.” Sensation is simultaneously one of the pleasures and challenges of being human: we feel so much. Yet, we don’t always pay attention to what we’re feeling – and, as a result, we are surprised by the “sudden” outpouring of emotion.

I think of it in much the same way that I think about the weather. We talk about the weather all the time – and sometimes with limited knowledge of why we’re experiencing the weather we’re experiencing. Sometimes we are prepared for what’s to come; sometimes not. Sometimes we rely on professionals, and all their science and math and theories, to predict what to expect. Sometimes we trust the almanac (and the history of precedent and “superstition”). Other times, we feel more confident relying on our achy bones; the smell of the air; the pressure in our head/sinuses; and/or a certain kind of restlessness. Of course, sometimes, we observe all that and still ignore the observation.

John Jeffries, born in Boston today (February 6th) in 1744, is considered America’s first weatherperson (even though he was loyal to the crown and would be banished from the new republic because of his loyalties). His birthday is observed (mostly in the United States) as National Weatherperson’s Day, which recognizes professionals in the meteorology, weather forecasting, and broadcast meteorology, as well as volunteer storm spotters, chasers, and observers.

The original Dr. Jeffries (not to be confused with his son, he became a famous ophthalmic surgeon) was a physician, a scientist, and a military surgeon who served with the British Army. A graduate of Harvard College (1763) and the University of Aberdeen, he started taking daily measurements of the Boston weather in 1774. He would eventually take weather observations from a balloon piloted by the French inventor Jean Pierre Blanchard on November 30, 1784 and a second trip on January 7, 1785. On the first trip, the duo flew over London to Stone Marsh, Kent. On the second trip they flew from England to France. In addition to making weather and atmospheric observations, Dr. Jeffries dropped four letters from the balloon on that first trip. Three of the letters were delivered to the appropriate recipients. The letter addressed to Mr. Arodie Thayer is now “considered the oldest piece of airmail in existence.”

“From the Balloon above the Clouds

 

Let this afford some proof, my dear Mr. Thayer, that no separation shall make me unmindful of you, — have confidence, — happier, I hope much happier days await you — pray tell my dear Mrs T. I salute her from the Skies… [this section illegible except for the word “pleasure”]… believe me as I ever have been,

 

     faithfully yours,

J. Jeffries”

 

 

– quoted from Dr. John Jeffries letter sent via “airmail” to Mr. Arodie Thayer, November 30, 1784, as posted “Attention, Aerophilatelists” by Peter Nelson (on The Consecrated Eminence: The Archives and Special Collections at Amherst College, 4/16/2012)

 

Friday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [NOTE: If you are in “shuffle mode” Spotify may include songs selected by the app. I will update the playlist next week to circumvent that pseudo-randomness.]

 

 

### “LISTEN TO YOUR HEART BEFORE YOU…” ###

Observing the Conditions… of the Heart (just the music) February 5, 2021

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Uncategorized.
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Please join me today (Friday, February 5th) at 7:15 PM for a “First Friday Night Special” virtual yoga practice on Zoom. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. Give yourself extra time to log in if you have not upgraded to Zoom 5.0. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below.

Friday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.

This practice is open to all. It can be done as an individual or as part of a pair.There will be moments where I will request that you note something.

Prop wise, it will be handy to have blocks (or books that are the same size), something you can use as a cushion, something you can use as a strap, and a blanket or towel. It will also be handy to have access to a closed door (or wall without molding) or a high back chair.

In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.)

 

### 🎶 ###

 

Today, 1959 (the Wednesday post about the music that died) February 5, 2021

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Uncategorized.
1 comment so far

[My apologies for this very late Wednesday the 3rd post. You can request an audio recording of Wednesday’s practices via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.

In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.

Check out the “Class Schedules” calendar for upcoming classes. *** DON’T FORGET THERE’S A “FIRST FRIDAY NIGHT SPECIAL! ***]

 

“Everyone deserves music, sweet music”

 

– quoted from the song “Everyone Deserves Music” by Michael Franti & Spearhead

 

“For years, [Dr. Mike Miller], a research cardiologist, has been studying the effects of happiness — or things that make people happy — on our hearts. He began his research with laughter, and found watching funny movies and laughing at them could actually open up blood vessels, allowing blood to circulate more freely.

 

Miller thought, if laughter can do that, why not music? So, he tested the effects of music on the cardiovascular system. ‘Turns out music may be one of the best de-stressors — either by playing or even listening to music,’ said Miller.

 

The setup was basically the same as with the laughter study: Using high-tech imaging, Miller measured blood vessel size as people listened to music.

 

The results did not surprise Miller. ‘The inner lining of the blood vessel relaxed, opened up and produced chemicals that are protective to the heart,’ he said.

 

But when participants listened to music they didn’t particularly enjoy, Miller said, ‘the vessels actually began to close up.’”

 

“But be careful what you listen to. Whether you like Beyoncé or the B-52s, Chopin or Johnny Cash, Miller found that listening repeatedly to the same tune diminished the music’s effects on the body. ‘You just don’t get that boost if you listen to the same song over and over again,’ he said. ‘You need to vary your songs, so when you hear the song fresh, it brings back the sense of joy and opens up the system.’”

 

– quoted from a 2009 CNN Health segment entitled, “The power of music: It’s a real heart opener” by Val Willingham, CNN Medical Producer

 

From Dr. Oliver Sacks to Dr. Teppo Särkämö and from Arthur C. Clarke to Friederick Nietzsche, medical practitioners, researchers, authors, philosophers, and anthropologists have shown that music affects us in multiple ways. It can touch our minds and hearts – and change our hearts and brains; it can change our moods; it can tell our stories; and it can affect our bodies on multiple levels. We may not all agree on what we like (or even what constitutes “music”), but it is hard to deny the benefit of music in general.

But, what if there was no music? What if it just stopped, or ceased to be? What if it died?

How long would you carry the music in your heart and your mind? How long would you carry it in the muscles of your body? Would you experience great longing? Would you be inspired to make more music?

I ask these questions not to be overly deep, but because today (February 3rd) is “The Day the Music Died.” It is the day in 1959 when a plane carrying Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and J. P. “The Big Bopper” Richardson crashed just outside of Clear Lake, Iowa. The three stars and the pilot, Roger Peterson, all died in the crash that happened as they were traveling to Moorhead, MN.

The three singers were young and successful. Holly was 22 and a newlywed expecting his first child. Valens was 17. At 28, “The Big Bopper” was the oldest of the three chronologically, but had started writing and singing later than the others. He had already made a name for himself as a Texas DJ and was capitalizing on his earlier success. He had a wife, a daughter, and another child on the way. (Peterson, 21, was also married.) All three of the singers were popular on the charts, had hit singles, and were on the precipice of even more greatness.

The accident happened during the “Winter Dance Party” tour, which featured the three stars plus Buddy Holly’s band, the Crickets, and Dion and the Belmonts. The Crickets, at the time, consisted of Waylon Jennings, Tommy Allsup, and Carl Bunch, with Frankie Sardo has an opener for Holly. Dion and the Belmonts were Dion DiMucci, Angelo D’Aleo, Carlo Mastrangelo, and Fred Milano. In my theatre days, we would have called the tour “snake bit,” but the musicians had a more specific moniker: “the tour from hell.”

“[Holly historian Bill] Griggs, who long ago moved to Holly’s home town of Lubbock, Texas, from Connecticut, estimates they had used five different buses before driving into Clear Lake – ‘reconditioned school buses, not good enough for school kids.’

 

The tour started in Milwaukee on Friday, Jan. 23, 1959. It then zig-zagged during the next 11 days from Wisconsin to Minnesota to Wisconsin to Minnesota to Iowa to Minnesota to Wisconsin to Iowa to Minnesota.

 

There were no roadies to help set up and pack up, and only icy two-lane highways to get from town to town.”

 

– quoted from the February 3, 2009 Star Tribune article entitled, “Buddy Holly: The tour from hell – The story of the long, cold nights on the road before the Day the Music Died, 50 years ago.” by Pamela Huey

Typically on a bus and truck tour, the order of venues is based on proximity, i.e. geographical nearness in space and time. A group might perform more than one show in a day, but those shows would typically be in the same venue. Typically, at least on the tours I did back in the day, the artists have a little down time between being on the road and actually performing (and vice versa), because the crew has to unload, set-up, and then after the performance breakdown and load out. But these things didn’t happen on the “Winter Dance Tour” of 1959.

To add to the abnormality of it all, it was super cold, snowy, icy, and windy. The temperature swung from 20° F (-7° C) to -36° F (-38° C) – and the buses weren’t always heated. At least one bus, the one between the ninth show (in Duluth, MN) and the tenth and eleventh shows (in Appleton and Green Bay, Wisconsin) was not only not heated, it broke down; leaving the musicians stranded on the side of the freezing cold road – trying to stay warm with blankets and a trash bonfire made out of newspapers. Then, they had to perform. Carl Bunch, Buddy Holly’s drum at the time, had frostbite on his feet. J. P. “The Big Bopper” Richardson had the flu. And, to add to all that, Buddy Holly was bickering with his manager.

Everyone was tired, cold, and frustrated – but they still had shows… and the show must go on.

The twelfth show, the show in Clear Lake, Iowa, was not on the original schedule. It was scheduled by Holly’s manager when the musicians arrived in Clear Lake on Monday, February 2nd. Which just added to the headliner’s frustration – especially since the thirteenth show, in Moorhead, MN, would require them to drive 365 miles, passing by the previous two stops along the way. Fed up, Buddy Holly decided to charter a plane from the Iowa venue (the twelfth show) to the next Minnesota stop (the thirteenth show). He was going to cover himself and his band, and was willing to split the cost with any of the other musicians that wanted to skip the road trip, and possibly have time to sleep in some place warm and soft instead of in a cold bus seat).

Dion DiMucci said he couldn’t afford the $36 for him and the Belmonts. He was later quoted as saying that the cost was the same amount as his parents paid in rent in New York; so, ultimately, he couldn’t justify the expense. During the investigation into the crash, DiMucci gave a slightly different explanation of how things transpired than Jennings and Allsup; however, the most accepted sequence of events is that: (1) As an act of compassion, since “The Big Bopper” was so sick, Waylon Jennings gave up his seat to the former DJ. (2) Carl Bunch was in the hospital (because of the frostbite) and would be out until the tour swung back to Iowa on February 5th. (3) Ritchie Valens and Tommy Allsup flipped a coin which, in theory, Allsup lost.

“The next thing I know, Buddy sends me over to get a couple of hot dogs. He’s sitting there in a cane-bottomed chair, and he’s leaning back against the wall. And he’s laughing.

‘Ah,’ he said. ‘You’re not going with me tonight, huh? Did you chicken out?’

I said no, I wasn’t scared. The Big Bopper just wanted to go.

‘Well,’ he said grinning, ‘I hope your damned bus freezes up again.’

I said, ‘Well, I hope your ol’ plane crashes.’

 

That took me a lot of years to get over. I was just a kid, barely twenty-one. I was about halfway superstitious, like all Southern people, scared of the devil and scared of God equally.

I was afraid somebody was going to find out I said that, and blame me. I knew I said that. I remember Buddy laughing and then heading out to the airport after the show. I was certain I caused it.”

 

– quoted from “Chapter 2: Buddys” of Waylon: An Autobiography by Waylon Jennings and Lenny Kaye

After the crash, “The Winter Dance” tour went on. Robert Velline (who would make a name for himself as Bobby Vee) was a fifteen-year old singer, songwriter from Fargo, North Dakota, who put together a band called the Shadows, with his older brother and some school friends. They answered a call for talent and performed in Moorhead, MN. Vee would go on to release a single “Suzie Baby” (1959), which was an homage to Buddy Holly’s “Peggy Sue;” release a tribute album (I Remember Buddy Holly (1963); and regularly performed at the Winter Dance Party memorial concerts in Clear Lake, Iowa. Waylon Jennings, Tommy Allsup, and Carl Bunch would all continue, with Jennings eventually singing lead. However, Jennings and Allsup would only continue the tour for two additional weeks. Jennings would ultimately leave Buddy Holly’s guitar and amplifier in a locker at Grand Central Station, and mail the keys to Holly’s widow.

Tragically, María Elena Holly suffered a miscarriage – due to the compounded trauma of losing her husband and finding out about the accident over the radio. Waylon Jenning’s family would also report being traumatized by hearing on the radio that “Buddy Holly and his band had been killed.” Subsequently, public officials decided not to release the names of victims until after the families had been notified.

J. P. “The Big Bopper” Richardson’s son, Jay Perry Richardson, was born two months after the accident. He grew up to become a musician known as “The Big Bopper, Jr.” in honor of his father. For a while, including in 1999, he toured with Jay Mueller, a Buddy Holly impersonator whose tribute show attempted to recreate the 1959 schedule in 1999 (for the 40th anniversary).

“John Mueller, who plays Buddy Holly in a traveling road show called ‘Winter Dance Party,’ has rare insight into what the ’50s performers endured. In 1999, Mueller and the other musicians tried to replicate ’59 tour. It was the 40th anniversary of the plane crash, and he wanted to honor the ’59 tour by going back to the original cities and original venues.

 

‘By the time we got to Clear Lake, I had lost my voice, I had lost about 10 to 15 pounds, I was just physically exhausted, as was everybody in the group. The grueling nature of the tour, following the exact geographic routing, it really hit me in the head why they chartered the plane,’ said Mueller, whose group traveled in warm, comfortable minivans.”

 

– quoted from the February 3, 2009 Star Tribune article entitled, “Buddy Holly: The tour from hell – The story of the long, cold nights on the road before the Day the Music Died, 50 years ago.” by Pamela Huey

 

I asked the questions: But, what if there was no music? What if it just stopped, or ceased to be? What if it died?

But, we know what we would do because people did it. We carry the music in our hearts and minds. We carry it in the muscles of our bodies and in every fiber of our being. We are inspired to make more music, more dance, more poetry, more stories, and even statues.

There have been many songs, books, movies, reenactment concerts, and even a musical written in honor of the musicians and music that were lost in 1959. Perhaps the most famous tribute song about the three stars is Don McLean’s 1971 hit “American Pie” – which established February 3rd as The Day the Music Died. I have been told that Madonna covered the song (but if you’ve never heard the original, you’re missing out).

In April 1959, Tommy Dee recorded “Three Stars,” which offers personal glimpses into the singers’ personality and lives. Eddie Cochran, who was friends with Buddy Holly and Ritchie Valens, actually recorded “Three Stars” before Dee recorded it. Tragically, he would be killed in a car accident while on tour in England. He was the only fatality. (I believe his version of “Three Stars was released posthumously.)

Eddie Cochran’s death resulted in another wave of tribute songs, including Waylon Jennings “The Stage (Stars in Heaven),” which was a tribute to the Holly, Valens, “The Big Bopper,” and Cochran. Interestingly, Buddy Holly arranged for Waylon Jenning’s first recording session in December 1958. During that session, Jenning’s recorded his first single, “Jole Blon” – which is sometimes called “the Cajun national anthem” and is on my playlist for the day. It features Buddy Holly and Tommy Allsup, and would be released in March 1959 – so, in some ways, it is also a tribute.

“In a vision I can see, the stars that meant the world to me
Ana din the vision it’s the same as long ago
I see a stage beyond compare and all the stars were settled there”

 

“We’ve had the final curtain call and if you have seen any of my vision at all
Then you have truly seen, The greatest show of all”


– quoted from the song “The Stage (Stars in Heaven) by Waylon Jennings

Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.

(NOTE: The YouTube playlist has the Tommy Dee version of “Three Stars” during the practice and the Eddie Cochran version in the before/after music. The Spotify playlist has Cochran’s version during the practice and Charlie Gracie’s song “I’m Alright,” a tribute to Eddie Cochran, in the before/after music.)

 

“Look up in the sky
Up toward the North
There are three new stars
Brightly shining forth

 

They’re shining so bright
From Heaven above
Gee, we’re gonna miss you
Everybody sends their love”

 

– quoted from the song “Three Stars” by Tommy Dee

 

IT’S TIME! During tonight’s “First Friday Night Special” (7:15 – 8:20 PM, CST) we will be “observing the conditions” of the heart. This practice is open and accessible to all. Additional details are posted on the “Class Schedules” calendar! The relevant post is coming.

 

### “YOU KNOW WHAT I LIKE!” ###

Today, 1959 (the music that died) February 3, 2021

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Uncategorized.
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Please join me today (Wednesday, February 3rd) at 4:30 PM or 7:15 PM for a yoga practice on Zoom. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You will need to register for the 7:15 PM class if you have not already done so. Give yourself extra time to log in if you have not upgraded to Zoom 5.0. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.

Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.

In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.)

### 🎶 ###

“Okay, campers, rise and shine!” (the Tuesday post) February 3, 2021

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Abhyasa, Art, Books, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Faith, Healing Stories, Hope, Karma, Life, Love, Movies, Music, Mysticism, One Hoop, Peace, Philosophy, Religion, Suffering, Vairagya, Wisdom, Yoga.
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[This is the post for Tuesday, February 2nd. You can request an audio recording of Tuesday’s practices via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.

In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.

Check out the “Class Schedules” calendar for upcoming classes.]

*** SPOILER ALERT: This post references plot points from the movie and musical Groundhog Day. ***

“Okay, campers, rise and shine, and don’t forget your booties cause it’s cooooold out there today.”

– Richard Henzel as “DJ #1” in the movie Groundhog Day

“‘I read it,’ says [Bill] Murray, ‘and I thought it was just extraordinary because at it’s core it really said something: It was an interpretation of the myth about how we all repeat our lives because we’re afraid of change. I thought it could just be the funniest thing ever.’”

– quoted from the February 7, 1993 article, Bill Murray and the Beast Filming “Groundhog Day” Turned Out To Be A Nightmare For The Actor. His Furry Co-star Had A Hankering For His Blood. by Ryan Murphy, For The Inquirer

A stage manager and a hardware store owner walk into a yoga studio. The hardware store owner asks, “What’s the difference between a rut, a groove, and a rake?” The yoga teacher says, “Perspective.”

OK, so, that’s not exactly how the conversation went, but it’s pretty close. For those of you who don’t work in theatre, hardware, construction, and/or architecture, a rake is the incline on an old fashioned stage that makes the back of the stage (or the end farthest from the audience) “upstage” and is the same type of incline that places the back of the audience up higher than the seats closest to the stage. It allows people to see the full range of action. Of course, “rut” and “groove” are both words used to describe a deep track in the earth (or a record album) that is also used to describe an ingrained habit – although the former has a negative connotation, while the latter is considered more desirable.

Ultimately though, all three words, describe something that requires a certain degree of effort to get from the bottom to the top. The thing is, if you are (habit-wise) in a groove, you may not have a desire or a reason to get out of the groove. If you are on a rake, you want to be downstage (because that is typically where the action is) and you want to make sure no one is “upstaging you.” Finally, if you are in a rut, you may find that getting out of it may take more energy than you are putting into things. You could be like Sisyphus, pushing the rock up the mountain for all eternity. Or, maybe, like Phil Connors, you just don’t know how to get out of the situation you’re in.

Phil: “What would you do if you were stuck in one place and every day was exactly the same and nothing that you did mattered?”

Ralph: “That about sums it up for me.”

– Bill Murray as “Phil Connors” and Rick Overton as “Ralph” in the movie Groundhog Day

In the 1993 Harold Ramis movie Groundhog Day (as well as in the musical of the same name), Phil Connors is malcontent weather man who travels to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania for the annual Groundhog Day celebrations. He clearly would rather be anywhere but where he is; however, he’s a professional. He shows up on February 1st, along with Larry the cameraman (played by Chris Elliot in the movie) to do his job. He wakes up on February 2nd, does his duty and then goes to bed, looking forward to getting up in the morning and getting out of Dodge. The only problem, the one even Punxsutawney Phil couldn’t have predicted, is that when he wakes up the “next morning” it’s still February 2nd – Groundhog Day!

This happens again and again to Phil Connors. Much to his annoyance, no one else he encounters seems to notice the time loop. Not Larry the cameraman; not Rita (played by Andie McDowell in the movie); not Ralph (played by Rick Overton in the movie) – and definitely not the so-excited-to-see-him Ned Ryerson (played by Stephen Tobolowsky in the movie). Not only does no one else notice that Groundhog Day is happening again and again, most everyone else is excited: It is, after all, a big day for the little town.

“Well, it’s Groundhog Day… again.”

– Bill Murray as “Phil Connors” in the movie Groundhog Day

The annual observation of Groundhog Day is based on a Pennsylvania Dutch superstition that if a badger (or a bear or a fox, depending on the region) saw its shadow on February 2nd, there would be four (now six) more weeks of winter. February 2nd was significant to the original observers, because it is Candlemas; which commemorates the Presentation of Jesus at the Temple and is observed by Catholics, as well as German Protestants, like the Pennsylvania Dutch communities.

The Pennsylvania Dutch, who were originally (and primarily) German immigrants to the Americas, had a lot of “superstitions” about weather – some of which could be found in Hostetter’s United States Almanac, for Merchants, Mechanics, Farmers, Planters, and General Family Use (published 1863–1909 in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania by Hostetter & Smith). For instance, if the weather was nice for All Saints’ and All Souls’ Days (the two days after All Hallows’ Eve), then the weather would be good for the next six weeks. Similarly, there was an obvious tie between Christianity and the Old World (pagan) beliefs in the idea that the length of icicles between Christmas and New Year’s would translate into the depth of snow during winter.

The groundhog tradition is one of the few Pennsylvania Dutch beliefs that, somehow, jumped from their very sacred (and closed) communities into the secular world. Punxsutawney Phil (in western Pennsylvania) is arguably the most famous and has been predicting the weather since 1886. (Of course, despite what the organizers would have you believe, there have been several Phils over the years.) The official Groundhog Day ceremony, with all its pomp and circumstance, rituals, and proclamations has been an official ceremony since 1887. The movie, in 1993, increased tourism to the area, as the average number of attendees rose from 2,000 to 10,000. In 2019, the event was live streamed – which means the town was virtually prepared for this year’s COVID-19 restrictions.

In addition to Punxsutawney Phil, there’s Chattanooga Chuck in Tennessee; French Creek Freddie in West Virginia; Buckeye Chuck in Ohio and Staten Island Chuck (a.k.a Charles G. Hogg) in New Jersey – and Staten Island Chuck’s daughter Charlotte, Jr.; Essex Ed also in New Jersey; Jimmy the Groundhog in Wisconsin; Stormy Marmot in Colorado; General Beauregard Lee (known as Beau) in Gwinnett County, Georgia; and Pierre C. Shadeaux in Louisiana. Shubenacadie Sam is in Nova Scotia. In Canada, there’s Balzac Billy in Alberta; Fred la marmotte in Quebec; and Wiarton Willie in Ontario.

There’s also a larger-than-life “Essex Ed” in Essex, Connecticut.

Over the years there’s been a lot of controversy around the groundhogs. One (allegedly) bit a New York mayor and, a few years later, a different New York mayor would (allegedly) drop a different groundhog. Then there was the time Warton Willie (in Ontario) predicted the weather even though he had died two days before Groundhog Day. Then there’s the fact that the groundhogs are notoriously wrong – although, perhaps not as much as one might think.

According to a 2021 CNN article by Laura Ly (with contributions from CNN meteorologist Allison Chinchar), Punxsutawney Phil has reportedly seen his shadow 104 times, but not seen it only 20 times; and, statistically speaking, he’s been correct 50% of the time in the last 10 years – which makes him a little like that broken clock that has tells the correct time twice a day. On the flip side, a 2018 Time Magazine article by Chris Wilson and Lily Rothman referenced a Mathematical Association of America paper that tracked predictions from 1950 to 1990 and found Punxsutawney Phil was 70% accuracy. During that time, Staten Island Chuck had a better record. However, when the Time reporters looked specifically at the 2017 predictions of 16 groundhogs and actually tracked the weather for each region, Unadilla Bill (in Nebraska) was 83% accurate. The thing is, Unadilla Bill is not “real”… he’s a product of taxidermy!

Just for the record, Punxsutawney Phil did not see his shadow the last two years, but he did see it this year; so, six more weeks of winter – unless you decide to bank on Unadilla Bill’s track record; in which case you get an early spring since the stuffed groundhog did not “see” his shadow. (This is Unadilla Bill’s last forecast as he is “retiring” and will be replaced by Unadilla Billie, that rare female groundhog.)

 “It’s always Feb 2nd – there’s nothing I can do about it.”

 

– Bill Murray as “Phil Connors” in the movie Groundhog Day

In the movie, Phil Connors is like Sisyphus – in that he is stoically prepared to do what he has to do. But, very quickly, he becomes downright fatalistic and then straight-up defiant. He’s Scrooge and George Bailey all rolled-up into one. It’s sad. As he makes some efforts to change his behavior and his interactions with others in a (futile) attempt to break the time loop, we can definitely see evidence that the movie loosely fits into the rubric of Dr. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’s five stages of grief. The problem with the recalcitrant weatherman’s approach is that he continuously picks the absolute worse things to say and do – pretty much guaranteeing that the loop continues.

Some people have looked at the movie as a Christian allegory about purgatory, and that fits in with the background of the original observation (if only in the fact that the original observation came from a Christian community and had close ties to Candlemas). It also fits in with the fact that Danny Rubin, the original writer, was inspired by Lestat de Lioncourt, one of Anne Rice’s most famous vampires – and Anne Rice’s books are steeped in (and with) Catholic imagery, ritual, and tradition.

I tend, however, to lean towards those who view the movie as a Buddhist parable or koan about karma. Karma is a Sanskrit word (kamma in Pali) meaning work, effort, action, or deed. In the Buddhist and Yoga philosophies, it is every thought, every word, and every deed – and our karma, literally our efforts, determine our suffering as well as how often we will repeat a life that involves suffering. The repetition of behavior connects to the philosophical concept of samskāras (saņkhāras in Pali) – which are the mental grooves (or ruts) that create our behavior and, in Buddhism, our world (samsāra). All of this fits in with Bill Murray’s observation (about people fearing change) and the fact that both Danny Rubin, the original writer, and Harold Ramos, who directed and worked on the movie’s re-write, have more than a working knowledge of Buddhism. Furthermore, in Buddhism – just like in the movie – the end of the cycle of suffering (and/or reincarnation) comes from the way we open our hearts to others.

Which, of course, begs the question: how long does that take? In fact, almost everyone who has ever seen the movie wonders how long the time loop takes.

“Again,’ says [Danny] Rubin, ‘I fought for the bookcase for a long time. Ultimately, it became this weird political issue because if you asked the studio, “How long was the repetition?”, they’d say, “Two weeks.” But the point of the movie to me was that you had to feel you were enduring something that was going on for a long time. It’s not like a sitcom where the problem is solved in 22½ minutes. For me it had to be – I don’t know. A hundred years. A lifetime.’

[Harold] Ramis maintains that the original script had specified that Phil was stuck for 10,000 years because of the significance of that time-span in Buddhist teachings, but Rubin denies this.”

– quoted from Groundhog Day (BFI Modern Classics) by Ryan Gilbey (series editor, Rob White)

In a 2005 critical study of the movie, Ryan Gibley explored some of the theories, misconceptions, and assumptions about the time-loop continuum – as well as the way the understanding (and “official” explanations) of the timeline changed and evolved over time. In the original draft, Phil Connors used books (reading one page a day) to keep track of the days and, based on that concept, the loop would be 70 – 80 years. At one point, Harold Ramis said 10; but when a blogger broke down scenes and estimated 9, Mr. Ramis publicly stated it was 30 – 40 years.

Suffice to say, it takes a really long time: as long as it takes to break every habit that makes up your life and the way you live your life. For Phil Connors that means changing the way he interacts with himself as well as with others. It means he has to engage all of the brahmavihārās or divine abodes in Buddhism (loving-kindness, compassion, sympathetic joy, and equanimity) and all of the siddhis “unique to being human” – in particular, those that overlap with Buddhism: the power to eliminate three-fold sorrow; the power to cultivate a good heart (and make friends); and the power of generosity.

The movie and, in particular, Phil’s evolution in the movie are a great lens through which to view our own lives. It can serve as a starting point for svādhyāyā (“self-study”), giving us the opportunity to look at how we respond (or habitually react) when we are faced with the same mistakes or the same issues. It brings our awareness to how things (and people) are connected and to how we’re changing (every time we inhale, every time we exhale) – even when it seems like things are staying the same. In noticing the difference a day makes/made – the difference that is us (or Phil, in the movie) – we are given the opportunity to consider how changing our perspective changes our behavior, and how that changes everything.

Finally, the movie makes us wonder how we would choose to spend the day if we knew this was the only day we would ever have. It begs the question: What would you do and with whom would you spend this day if it was your only day? And follows that with: Why are you waiting for your final day, your only day, to learn what you want to learn, do what you want to do, and spend time with the one(s) you love? Finally, the movie makes us wonder: What will it take for us to appreciate this day?

“Well, what if there is no tomorrow? There wasn’t one today.”

– Bill Murray as “Phil Connors” in the movie Groundhog Day

Tuesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. (UPDATE 2/3/2021: There is one track on Spotify that has been revised and one track on both playlists that has been revised to include a longer version, for content.)

“S: I got flowers in the spring, I got you to wear my ring
C: And when I’m sad, you’re a clown
C: And if I get scared, you’re always around
C: So let them say your hair’s too long
S: Cause I don’t care, with you I can’t go wrong
S: Then put your little hand in mine
S: There ain’t no hill or mountain we can’t climb”

– quoted from the song “I Got You Babe” by Sonny & Cher

IT’S ALMOST TIME! Are you ready for another “First Friday Night Special?” Please join me this Friday, February the 5th (7:15 – 8:20 PM, CST) when we will be “observing the conditions” of the heart. This practice is open and accessible to all. Additional details are posted on the “Class Schedules” calendar!

### “THE DIFFERENCE IS YOU” ###

 

“Okay, campers, rise and shine! (just the music) February 2, 2021

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Uncategorized.
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Please join me today (Tuesday, February 2nd) at 12 Noon or 7:15 PM for a virtual yoga practice on Zoom, where we will see how the practice “evolves.” Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. Give yourself extra time to log in if you have not upgraded to Zoom 5.0. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below.

Tuesday’s Noon playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.

In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.)

 

### 🎶 ###

 

Speaking of Rivers February 2, 2021

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in "Impossible" People, Art, Books, Changing Perspectives, Healing Stories, Hope, Langston Hughes, Life, Meditation, Music, One Hoop, Peace, Philosophy, Poetry, Suffering, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.
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[This is the post for Monday, February 1st! You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.

In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support the center and its teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es).) Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.]

Check out the “Class Schedules” calendar for upcoming classes.]

“I’ve known rivers:

I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the flow of human blood in human veins.

 

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.”

 

– from the poem “The Negro Speaks of Rivers” by Langston Hughes

 

Since 1976, February 1st has marked the beginning of Black History Month in the United States of America. I always found it curious: Why February, the shortest month of the year (even during leap years)? I sometimes wondered if the reason had anything to do with Langston Hughes, who was born today in 1902.*

Born James Mercer Langston Hughes, the poet was a prominent member of the Harlem Renaissance and the first Black American to earn a living solely from writing and public lectures. In addition to poetry (including jazz poetry, which he started writing in high school), he wrote novels, plays, essays, and letters…so many letters. He wrote so many letters, in fact, that at one point he was writing 30 – 40 letters a day and, by the end of his life, he could have filled 20 volumes of books with his letters.

He traveled the world, wrote about his experiences in Paris, Mexico, West Africa, the Azores and Canary Islands, Holland, France, Italy, the Soviet Union, and the Caribbean – but he always came home to Harlem. After all, his patrons were in Harlem. They were, in many ways, the very people about whom he said that he wrote: “workers, roustabouts, and singers, and job hunters on Lenox Avenue in New York, or Seventh Street in Washington or South State in Chicago—people up today and down tomorrow, working this week and fired the next, beaten and baffled, but determined not to be wholly beaten, buying furniture on the installment plan, filling the house with roomers to help pay the rent, hoping to get a new suit for Easter—and pawning that suit before the Fourth of July.” He made a name for himself specifically writing about the Black experience, but (in doing so) he wrote about the American experience.

“Well, I like to eat, sleep, drink, and be in love.   

I like to work, read, learn, and understand life.   

I like a pipe for a Christmas present,

or records—Bessie, bop, or Bach.

I guess being colored doesn’t make me not like

the same things other folks like who are other races.   

So will my page be colored that I write?   

Being me, it will not be white.

But it will be

a part of you, instructor.

You are white—

yet a part of me, as I am a part of you.

That’s American.”

 

– quoted from the poem ”Theme for English B” by Langston Hughes

Being an African-American born at the beginning of the 20th Century meant that Mr. Hughes easily trace his heritage back to slavery. Both of his paternal great-grandmothers were enslaved and both of his paternal great-grandfathers were slave owners.

He could also trace his heritage to freedom and a time when there was no question about freedom – as well as the time when people appreciated their freedom in new ways. His maternal grandmother, Mary Patterson, was African-American, French, English, and Indigenous American. She was also the first woman to attend Oberlin College. She married a man, Lewis Sheridan Leary, also of mixed heritage, who died in 1859 while participating in John Brown’s raid on Harpers Ferry and eventually married her second husband, Charles Henry Langston. The senior Langston, along with his brother John Mercer Langston, was an abolitionist and leader of the Ohio Anti-Slavery Society, who would eventually become a teacher and voting rights activist.

“So boy, don’t you turn back.

Don’t you set down on the steps

’Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.

Don’t you fall now—

For I’se still goin’, honey,

I’se still climbin’,

And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.”

 

– quoted from the poem “Mother to Son” by Langston Hughes

The Langstons’ daughter, Caroline (Carrie), would become a school teacher and the mother of the great poet. Raised primarily by his mother and maternal grandmother, Langston Hughes should a definite talent and interest in writing at an early age. He was also devoted to books. Despite being academically inclined, he struggled with the racism in school – even when it seemed to benefit him, because he couldn’t escape the misconceptions, marginalization, and oppression that came with the stereotypes.

Still, he persisted. He attended Lincoln University, a Historically Black College and University (HBCU) in Chester County, Pennsylvania, where he was the classmate of the then-future Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall. And, when he had the opportunity to share his poetry with a popular white poet whose poetry “sang” (and was meant to be sung), he took advantage of the moment – even though he was working as a busboy at a New York hotel where the poet (Vachel Lindsay) was having dinner.

“I dream a world where all
Will know sweet freedom’s way,
Where greed no longer saps the soul
Nor avarice blights our day.
A world I dream where black or white,
Whatever race you be,
Will share the bounties of the earth
And every man is free,”

 

– quoted from “I Dream A World” by Langston Hughes

Langston Hughes and his words left an indelible mark on the world. As Black History Month is all about recognizing African-Americans who were influential to our society – but not always recognized by society; I have often wondered if Langston Hughes’s birthday being on the 1st was the reason Black History Month is in February. Well, as it turns out, it’s just one more example of serendipity.

 Created in 1926 by Carter G. Woodson, an African-American historian who was the son of former slaves, the annual celebration initially started as “Negro History Week” – and it was the second week in February for fifty years. Mr. Woodson started the week so that it coincided with the birthday of President Abraham Lincoln (2/12/1809) and the observed/assumed birthday of Frederick Douglass (2/14/1818), the abolitionist, who escaped slavery at the age of 20). The existence of this heritage month has inspired heritage and cultural observation throughout the year so that the calendar, in some ways, reflects the United States: diverse and (academically) segregated. It has also changed the way some aspects of American history are taught.

“I look at my own body   

With eyes no longer blind—

And I see that my own hands can make

The world that’s in my mind.

Then let us hurry, comrades,

The road to find.

 

– quoted from the poem “I look at the world” by Langston Hughes

 

There is no playlist for the Common Ground practice. (But my Langston Hughes playlist is full of Bessie, bop, and Bach – all of the poet’s favorites!)

*2022 NOTE: According to most printed biographies (that I checked), Langston Hughes was born in 1902. However, many digital sources indicate that he was born in 1901 – and this earlier date is based on research and fact checking reported for the New York Times by Jennifer Schuessler (in 2018). Curiously, the 1940 census listed his birth as “abt 1905;” however, this information would have been given to a census taker by one of the poet’s roommates. (Additionally, we know from one his poems that Langston Hughes didn’t think very highly of the “census man” and the accuracy of census information.)

IT’S ALMOST TIME! Are you ready for another “First Friday Night Special?” Please join me this Friday, February the 5th (7:15 – 8:20 PM, CST) when we will be “observing the conditions” of the heart. This practice is open and accessible to all. Additional details are posted on the “Class Schedules” calendar!

### KEEP ON A-CLIMBIN’ ON ###