NOTE: Randomly, coincidentally, or not, two people named Buckley created pieces entitled “The Things That Keep Us Here.” I’ve never read Carla Buckley’s novel, but I’ve used Scott Buckley’s haunting composition on more than one occasion. It is part of his Monomyth album and includes a description that also seems to fit the synopsis of the novel, “Family. Duty. The things that keep us grounded, what keep us from giving up on our hopes, but what also holds us back from stepping across the precipice into the unknown.”
As the High Holidays come to an end, I always find myself thinking about the things to which I cling even though they are no longer serving me – or never served me. I think about how the very “things that keep us grounded” and keep us from stepping into danger can also be the things that keep us from freely moving into our future.
The following reflection was originally posted on September 27, 2020 and is related to the practice from Wednesday, September 15, 2021.Some links have been added/updated.
“So I draw courage and stand face-to-face with my limitations, without shrinking or running. I allow for honest remorse. Here is my place of Now….
Of course, acceptance does not mean becoming complacent. I still need to honestly evaluate my life and reflect on how I want to act differently this coming year. It also doesn’t preclude trying my best.
But at this very moment my state of ‘now’ is my truth.”
– quoted from an article entitled “Perfectly Imperfect: The Secret of the Shofar” (09/12/2020) by Rabbi Binyomin Weisz
We have inspirational times, like the High Holidays are in the Jewish tradition, when people are getting ready for “good” (as in meaningful) days, better days. And, when those times come, I often wonder how long it’s going to take for people to really come clean. I wonder why it takes us so long to recognize the power in remembering and reflecting, starting small, and rooting down to grow up. I consider all the different possibilities that can lead us to a new beginning and a “sweet new year.”
Each part of the journey is a story-within-a-story (within-a-story). That’s the way our lives work. We are all, each of us, the hero in our own story as well as the antagonist and/or supporting character and/or “magical guide” and/or benevolent goddess and/or “father” figure in someone else’s story. Paying attention to the stories is another way to pay attention to your life.
– “A person firmly established in the non-possessiveness gains complete understanding of the “why-ness” (or essence of why) of birth.”
Like everyone else, I have my favorite stories for each season; but, I don’t get the chance to tell every story every year. (That’s why some of the highlighted words above are not yet linked to a post.) There is, however, a story I make sure to tell every year, right at the end of the High Holidays. It’s a Charlie Harary story with a timeless message. It’s a message, coincidentally, that would have worked really well with yesterday’s yoga sūtra because it is, absolutely, a story about non-attachment. (And also gold.) But I didn’t tell the story yesterday – I saved it for today.
Some people may believe that I save today’s story for the one of the final days of the high holidays because it is sometimes an intense physical practice. But, in reality, there is a bit of symbolism that plays out in the story and in the timing of the story. You see, even though I don’t talk about the significance of the Rosh Hashanah, the Ten Days of Awe / Ten Days of Atonement, and Yom Kippur until people are observing them; many people within the Jewish community start planning and observing (a time of contemplation and preparation) forty days before Yom Kippur. They listen for the call of the shofar; recite Psalm 27 twice a day; and some communities even begin a tradition of communal prayers for forgiveness (Selichot). For others, observation begins with Rosh Hashanah and the Ten Days of Repentance – even though, if they plan to go home and/or attend services, they have to make arrangements beforehand. Finally, there are people who may only fast and attend services on Yom Kippur.
There is merit to each person’s timetable. And I see this kind of timetable in other communities – including in the yoga community. I am especially aware of how it is playing out right now, as some people are transitioning back into studios and gyms, some people are holding steady to their online or individual practices, and still others are waiting….
“Had I not believed in seeing the good of the Lord in the land of the living!
Hope for the Lord, be strong and He will give your heart courage, and hope for the Lord.”
– Tehillim – Psalms (27:13-14)
There is merit to each person’s timetable. However, we ultimately come back to the question of what purpose does the practice (or observation) serve and – if it serves a meaningful purpose – why are we waiting? If we want more meaning, more purpose, more insight, and more gratitude/happiness in our lives, we have to get ready for it.
True, life can be like a standardized test – some people don’t seem to need as much preparation as others. But, the ultimate truth (in that) is that some people spend their whole lives preparing, getting ready, for more life. You will find that, as occurs in the stories from yesterday and today, if our focus is on getting that the glittery, shiny stuff, that we think enables us to live the way we want to live and be the people we want to be, we may never achieve our ultimate goal. Sometimes all the preparation keeps us from living our best lives and being our best version of our self – because all of our focus and energy is going towards the means (not the end). Furthermore, we can let the idea of everything being “perfect” hold us back.
On the flip side, some people actually live a life full of meaning, purpose, insight, and gratitude/insight because that is their ultimate purpose. They are not getting ready to get something glittery and shiny with a lot of value; they recognize that they already have it. Our lives and the lives of those around us are of the highest value. (I wonder how long it will it take for us to recognize that.)
“And the real goal of Yom Kippur is to spend one day just being you – but the real you… that soul, that you.”
– quoted from “Yom Kippur: Time to Come Home” by Charlie Harary
Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “High Holidays: Drop Your Bags”]
You can request an audio recording of the Wednesday 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.
“Many blessings,” to everyone and especially those observing the Yom Kippur or celebrating Ganesh Chaturthi!
This is the “missing” post for Tuesday, September 14th.You can request an audio recording of either 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.
“The key to getting the most out of any experience is preparation before the event. You cannot expect to leap from the shower to the shul and instantly feel holy. It just doesn’t work that way.”
– quoted from “Preparing for Rosh Hashana: The secret to an inspiring new year” by Rabbi Yaakov Salomon
Just as you can’t jump up off the coach and run a marathon, without some training, Rabbi Yaakov Salomon once pointed out that the desire for a deep spiritual connection requires some preparation. The means he mentioned included introspection, meditation, and prayer – all methods also mentioned in other traditions, including in Indian philosophies like yoga. A lot of people, however, aren’t familiar with all 8-limbs of the Yoga Philosophy; they just know about the two limbs that form the postural practice: āsana and prāņāyāma. But, just practicing those two little things can take you deeper into the overall practice and help cultivate big connections.
In many ways, hatha yoga (the physical practice of yoga, regardless of the style or tradition) is all about little things and about bringing awareness to the little things. The way we sit or stand determines how we breathe; the way we breathe in different positions determines how we feel. When we bring our awareness to how we feel we can go deeper into the pose as well as into ourselves. It all starts with little things. Little things, like how we place our hands or engage our core, can make the difference between going deeper into a pose and deeper into ourselves versus getting injured. Although, sometimes we learn a lot about ourselves from getting injured; but that’s another story for another day.
Tuesday’s story was all about how using the practice to notice little things, can give us insight into why we think the way we think and do (and say) the things we do (and say) – on and off the mat. For instance, next time you’re on the mat, give yourself the opportunity to notice these “little things” – one at a time and then all together:
Make sure your legs are in a position that’s comfortable for low back and arms in a position that’s comfortable for neck and shoulders.
Breathe deeply in and breathe deeply out.
Notice the “L” of your hands, especially when you have weight in your hands and arms. (In grade school you might have learned that one “L” on your forehead means loser, but if you put two “L”s together you have a shot at a goal; if you tip the ends out, you have a “W” – which means winner.)
For a vinyāsa practice, match the movement to the breath. For all practices, notice the natural internal movement that happens as you breathe.
Press your shoulders down and squeeze the tips of your shoulder blades together. Notice how the engagement in the back body affects the front of the body.
Engage the inside (starting at your feet and engage your core by squeezing into your midline).
Focus on something that’s not moving so that your mind-body stays present. Remember, where your eyes go, your mind goes; where your mind goes, your body goes – especially in a balancing pose.
SMILE!
Notice what happens when you put it all together.
Change your perspective and look at things in a slightly different way. (If you are working on a peak and/or advanced pose, practice a pose that looks and feels similar and, therefore, may require similar engagement.)
Don’t panic! Be present and trust your practice in this moment.
Tuesday’s practice also featured this personal story from Rabbi Yaakov Salomon. It’s a story about little things and is a great reminder that while we may not always notice the little things until they become the big things, the little things matter. In fact, every little thing we feel, think, say, and do is the possibility of a big thing we’re in the habit of feeling, thinking, saying, or doing.
The following was originally posted on September 14, 2020. The playlist links have been added.
“According to Yoga philosophy, the causes of our thought patterns have a much deeper source than we normally realize. Our inner world is propelled by our habits, which in turn govern and determine the nature of our emotions, thoughts, speech, and actions. Our habits form our personality. They have a powerful influence on our unconscious behavior, as well as on our conscious decisions.”
– commentary on Yoga Sūtra 1.12 from The Secret of the Yoga Sutra: Samadhi Pada by Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, PhD
Habits: The things we do repeatedly, routinely, sometimes without thought or consideration. There are habits we label as “good” and others we label as “bad” – and then there are the ones that just are. There are habits we cultivate and others we may attempt to break. Even as people talk about all the different external factors to cultivating or breaking a habit – like how many days it takes (20, 30, or 40) and what life hacks enable them (like leaving your running shoes by the door, pre-packing your gym bag, or setting your phone to shut down media after a certain time) – habits, like all muscle memory, are ultimately mental exercises.
Even though we may not think very much about certain habits, they are happening because of what’s going on inside of our brains. We do something for the first time and a neural pathway is formed. We repeat the behavior enough times and the pathway is hardwired. Suddenly we feel compelled to do something or we think “it’s just what I/we do.” Even sometimes when the behavior is detrimental, harmful, to ourselves and others; we may not give it a second thought. Such deeply ingrained or embedded habits (regardless of if we consider them “good” or “bad”) are considered samskaras in the yoga philosophy. While such habits can feel instinctual, they are in fact conditioned.
“It is not accidental that all phenomena of human life are dominated by the search for daily bread – the oldest link connecting all living things, man included, with the surrounding nature.”
– quoted from the Dec. 12, 1904 Nobel Lecture “Physiology of Digestion” by Dr. Ivan Pavlov, winner of the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine
For most of his life, Dr. Ivan Petrovich Pavlov celebrated his birthday today, September 14th. It was his habit. Born in Ryazan in 1849, he would be 68 when the Russian Empire switched from the Julian to the Gregorian calendar (at which point his date of birth would be recognized as September 26th). Imagine if you had lived 68 years, doing things with a certain reference point in mind and then, suddenly, that reference point changed. Now, I can’t say for sure that it phased the Nobel laureate one way or the other – I don’t even know how (or if) he celebrated his birthday. What I do know, is that Dr. Pavlov knew a thing or two about habits.
The oldest of 11 and known as a curious child, Ivan Pavlov was an active child who started school late, because of an accident. He went to theological seminary for a bit, but his curiosity ultimately led him to the university at St. Petersburg and the field of medical research. He won several awards throughout his career, including the 1904 Nobel Prize for Physiology and Medicine “in recognition of his work on the physiology of digestion, through which knowledge on vital aspects of the subject has been transformed and enlarged.” The Nobel Committee’s description of why Dr. Pavlov won was in part a nod to the fact that he had been nominated four years in a row (starting in 1901). His ultimate win, however, was the direct result of experiments exploring the gastric function of dogs (and children).
Dr. Pavlov first noted that dogs started salivating before their food was actually delivered. He initially called the physiological anticipation, “psychic secretion,” but eventually his reflex system work would be viewed within the paradigm of classical conditioning, respondent conditioning, or Pavlovian conditioning. He was one of the first scientists to associate behavioral responses to environmental stimuli, and his research has been extended into various aspects of psychology, behavior modification therapy, and learning theory. Literally right up until his death, he hosted “Wednesday meetings,” where he discussed everything from physiology and psychology to his views on the treatment of animals by research scientists. While other scientists routinely cited him and his work, Dr. Pavlov has also been immortalized by fiction writers like Aldus Huxley, Anthony Burgess, and Thomas Pynchon. In fact, his work was so instrumental in our understanding of the mind-body connection, that people who have never studied medical physiology are aware of “the Pavlovian response.
“When the dog is repeatedly teased with the sight of objects inducing salivary secretion from a distance, the reaction of the salivary glands grows weaker and weaker and finally drops to zero. The shorter the intervals between repeated stimulations the quicker the reaction reaches zero, and vice versa. These rules apply fully only when the conditions of the experiment are kept unchanged…. These relations also explain the real meaning of the above-mentioned identity of experimental conditions; every detail of the surrounding objects appears to be a new stimulus. If a certain stimulus has lost its influence, it can recover the latter only after a long resting that has to last several hours.
The lost action, however, can also be restored with certainty at any time by special measures.”
– quoted from the Dec. 12, 1904 Nobel Lecture “Physiology of Digestion” by Dr. Ivan Pavlov, winner of the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine
While Ivan Pavlov and the Pavlovian response are often associated with the ringing of a bell, his written records indicate a plethora of external stimuli, including visual stimuli. Ultimately, he explains that what is most important is that the conditions are controlled and that the test subjects had control of their faculties. In fact, he used the global platform of his Nobel lecture to state, categorically, “Our success was mainly due to the fact that we stimulated the nerves of animals that easily stood on their own feet and were not subjected to any painful stimulus either during or immediately before stimulation of their nerves.” On another occasion, Dr. Pavlov encouraged scientists to be curious and not “a mere recorder of facts.” His lessons and research run parallel to the elements of practice which Patanjali described thousands of years before as being a method of controlling the activities of the mind, including those deeply embedded habits known as samskaras.
“abhyāsa vairāgyābhyāṁ tat nirodhaḥ” (YS 1.12)
abhyāsa Practice over a long period/without interruption
vairāgyābhyāṁ Non-attachment, without attraction or aversion
tat Those (referring to the “fluctuations of the mind” as described in previous sutras)
“Many blessings,” to everyone and especially those observing Yom Kippur or celebrating Ganesh Chaturthi!
This is the “missing” post for Monday, September 13th.You can request an audio recording of either 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.
“Stay To change the past, there is no need to travel in a time machine. Everything can be done by remote control.
Here’s how it works: From beyond the continuum of time, its Creator looks at where your spaceship is heading right now. From that point, He creates all its trajectory—through the future and through the past.
Switch the direction your past is sending you. Soon enough, it becomes a different past.”
– quoted from “Maamar Padah B’Shalom 5738” (From the wisdom of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, of righteous memory, words and condensation by Rabbi Tzvi Freeman)
There was a time, years ago, when my class theme on September 13th revolved around a writer who often employed a “time slip,” which is a plot device whereby a character (or a group of characters) time travel without knowing how or why they suddenly end up in a different time. They could go back in time or they could go forward, but when it’s a true time slip, they don’t have the intention of time traveling. It’s just something that happens. And, since they are not intentionally and deliberately going to a particular time in history, a lot of what the characters do, at least initially, is observe what’s happening.
If they go back, they have a moment of remembering how they got where they were. If they go forward, it can be mind blowing to see what’s changed. This is always interesting to me in the context of a new year, because if we were to suddenly and inexplicably found ourselves at this time next year, we might find that our goals and desires have been achieved without us doing any work (or without us experiencing the work that was done).That might sound good sometimes; but, by the same token, we could find that the world has changed, but (because we weren’t around to do the work) it might have changed in a way that is not to our liking. We might even realize, vis-à-vis our knowledge of cause and effect, that we were going in the wrong direction all along.
Granted, we don’t always need hindsight to identify a “wrong” path. We can use foresight, and envision or preview the path and even the obstacles we might find along the way. Remember, previewing (or reviewing) the course before you get started is one of the keys to pacing yourself. Knowing how long the journey will take is another tip related to Sunday’s practice and the idea of pacing yourself. Granted, in life, we don’t always know how long something will take to achieve or experience, but we still have an internal clock and can remind ourselves that we may not do things at the same pace (or timetable) as those around us.
“Before you were formed in the womb, your days were numbered and set in place. They are the chapters of the lessons you came here to learn, the faces of the wisdom this world has to teach you, the gateways to the treasures this lifetime alone can bestow.
A day enters, opens its doors, tells its story, and then returns above, never to visit again. Never—for no two days of your life will share the same wisdom.”
– quoted from Hayom Yom, 17 Cheshvan; Naso 5837:6 (From the wisdom of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, of righteous memory, words and condensation by Rabbi Tzvi Freeman)
I mention the internal clock because a big aspect of pacing yourself is what’s happening on the inside, beneath the surface. You all know I love to share stories and I especially love to tell stories during the High Holidays. One of my favorite stories I like to tell this time of year is an old story. It’s one you’ve probably heard before. In fact, knowing how popular this story is, I am actually surprised that I was well into my adulthood before I heard it. I’m not surprised, however, that the first time I heard the story it was in the context of Rosh Hashanah. I add a little flourish here and there (because “no two days of your life will share the same wisdom – even when they share the same story), but I basically tell the story like this:
Like so many of us, there’s this person sitting or standing on the edge of a mountain of uncertainty. This year, for obvious reasons, feels different from other years. What feels the same for this person, however, is the frustration and fear that comes from looking back and realizing that they have the same doubts and fears, hopes and dreams that they had this time last year. Rather than feeling like they’ve taken steps forward, closer to their dreams, this person feels like they have stayed in the exact same place – or even that they have taken a few steps back. Everything seems meaningless and pointless and, frankly, they feel they have nothing to show for all the times when they’ve reflected, remembered, repented, and planned.
So, as the head of the year approaches, this person goes to their rabbi and explains that they’re having a hard time. Yes, they understand that everyone is having and hard time – doesn’t make it easier. And, yes, they understand that some folks have it harder – doesn’t make them feel better. Bottom line, they aren’t motivated to make a plan for a new year when they feel they have nothing to show for the old.
The rabbi listens, as rabbis do, and then asks the person: How long does it take for a giant bamboo tree to grow as tall as a building?
Of course, this person doesn’t know (and is a little annoyed that their rabbi chooses this time to ask what appears to be a rhetorical – or liturgical – question). So, the rabbi tells the story of a farmer who decides they want to grow a giant bamboo tree. It’s a good investment, because if the farmer can get a good clump of culms, they can sell the edible shoots and also sell some of the sheath for construction and weaving. The farmer does some research, figures out the best place to plant, obtains some rhizome with their roots intact, and plants the cutting in a hole that is large enough to hold the rhizome and the roots (but not any deeper than the root-ball).
Satisfied with their work, the farmer goes about their business, watering and fertilizing the newly planted areas as needed. They do this for a year…. And then a second year…. By the third year, some of the farmer’s neighbors are starting to crack jokes about the farmer and their empty plot of land. Because no one sees anything happening – except the farmer diligently watering and fertilizing the area for yet another year. Finally, in the fifth year, a new growth appears. Then, within six weeks, that fertile green sprout shoots up as tall as a building.
“So,” the rabbi asks the person in their office, “how long does it take a giant bamboo to grow as tall as a building?”
The person who came seeking advice frustratingly says, “Six weeks.”
“No,” the rabbi patiently explains, “it takes five years….. Growth takes patience and perseverance. Every drop of water makes a difference; every step you take makes an impact. You may not see the change right away, but growth is happening.”
The pace at which the bamboo tree grows may seem painstakingly slow and the famer’s efforts may seem particularly arduous – especially when one’s focus is on the surface where nothing seems to be happening. The thing to remember, however, is that before the tree can shoot up, seemingly overnight, and reach the height of a building, it has to establish the root system that will support that growth. If the tree grows before the root system, there’s nothing to hold the tree up and nothing to nourish the tree. The same is true of each and every one of us. If we were to find ourselves in a time slip, we could wake up on the day after we had achieved our wildest dreams and loftiest desires, but we might not be prepared to enjoy and/or appreciate the experience. We also might not be qualified to handle the experience.
“Imposter syndrome,” the fear that people will discover someone is not qualified to do their job, is a common struggle these days. When you’re not the one with the fear it can seem demented that someone fears being seen as not capable of doing the very job they are doing – or are being promoted to do. But I think it’s very human. In fact, I think it’s similar to the feeling many people have about becoming a parent. The biggest difference, maybe, is that when it comes to parenthood, people are often told (a) that nobody’s really ready until it happens and (b) that, as Dr. Benjamin Spock said, we know more than we think we do. Consider how much less stressful life would be if we kept getting that parenting advice in all other areas of life.
“Krishna continues the dialogue: ‘The person who works in the world without needing or expecting a reward is both a sanyasi (true renunciate) and karma-yogi (action yogi). But the person who merely refrains from acting in the world is neither of these. You cannot just discard worldly duties, but must do them to the utmost extent of your human capacity for excellence.
‘I repeat, Arjuna, nobody can really become one with the Godhead without leaving their desires behind and abandoning their attachment to the fruits of their actions. The paths of desireless action (karma yoga) and renunciation (sanyasa) may seem to be different from one another but they are not. All spiritual growth is based on surrendering attachments and selfish motives.’”
– quoted from 6.1-2 of The Bhagavad Gita: A Walkthrough for Westerners by Jack Hawley
“‘Through regular practice (abhyasa) you can draw the mind away from worldly attractions and back into the Atma. As it becomes more interior it becomes calmer. Relentless inquiry into the Self (vichara) leads to knowledge of Atma, the True Self Within. Non-attachment (vairagya) results from self-inquiry and discrimination (buddhi). When you actively turn your thoughts to all the bad consequences of the desires as they arise in you, the passion for them gradually dries up. As your passion diminishes, your mind comes under control. Firm, dedicated faith (sraddha) brings you the raw force of determination, will. All four methods are subsidiaries of the practice of meditation.’”
– Krishna speaking to Arjuna (6.35) in The Bhagavad Gita: A Walkthrough for Westerners by Jack Hawley
There are some things we spend our whole lives preparing to do and there are some things we don’t realize we are prepared to do until we are called to do them. In either case, what we are experiencing in the present moment – and our understanding of the moment – is based on all the previous moments (and our understanding of those moments). Life is progressive.
In yoga, vinyāsa krama is “step by step progression towards a goal.” It is sometimes translated as “wise progression.” Each step, each breath, prepares us for the next step, the next breath, and the next experience. Another way to look at it is that everything we do is preparation and practice for the next thing we do. This is why texts like Patanjali’s Yoga Sūtras and the Bhagavad Gita recommend abhyāsa (a consistent, dedicated and devoted practice) and vairāgya (non-attachment).
Even when we don’t see obvious changes on the outside, consistent practice and dedication creates change. Sometimes the change is physical and sometimes the change is mental, emotional, or spiritual. But if there is change on the outside, there’s change on the inside. In fact, more often than not the first change happened on the inside and we were too busy look outward to notice it. Being (too) attached to what’s happening on the outside often prevents us from seeing the changes that make a difference – which can, in turn, become an obstacle in our path. That’s why I always suggest turning inward and going deeper. That’s why I always encourage paying attention to what’s happening underneath the surface.
That’s why I’m all aboutthe little things and how they become the big things.
A Joyful Practice 