A Joyful Practice

2024 / “For Those Who Missed It (& those who still don’t get it): Divine Remembrance” January 27, 2024

Peace and safe passage to all on International Holocaust Remembrance Day.

This is the “missing” post for Saturday, January 27^th. It includes an introduction related to the 2024 Saturday practices and the 2022 version of a 2021 post (with the 2022 “preface note” moved to the end. This post and practice references political conflict, war, and genocide. You can request an audio recording of a related practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.

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“I promised myself when I was in very deep in this terrible situation that when I came out, I will tell the world what can happen.”

“I know what it meant because I came normal, in a normal family [from a] normal country and suddenly— And it doesn’t begin with killing, never. It begins only with words. and then it gets worse and worse.”

— Lily Ebert, a Holocaust survivor and co-author of Lily’s Promise: Holding On to Hope Through Auschwitz and Beyond—A Story for All Generations explaining why she tells her story in the 2022 Home Office video “Holocaust Survivor Lily Ebert’s Story” (featuring Lily Ebert, her great-grandson and co-author Dov Forman, and then-Home Secretary Priti Patel)

During the 2024 Saturday practices, we are exploring how this present moment (every present moment) is the culmination of past moments and how this present moment (every present moment) becomes the beginning of the next/future moments. There are several ways we could go about this exploration. For obvious reasons, I am (primarily) using paradigms based on the chakra system in Yoga and Āyurveda as they come to us from India. During January, we have been focusing on the lower body and lessons we learned from our first family, tribe, and/or community of birth.

Some of these lessons were directly and intentionally taught to us. However, others were inferred and/or completely unintentional. No matter what age we are, there are some lessons we absorb and soak in and others that we reject. Either way, those lessons make up our foundation in life. With regard to the first chakra, which is energetically and symbolically connected to survival, these lessons are also related to trauma — and, in particular, generational trauma.

On a certain level, it doesn’t matter if (or to what degree) you believe in the energetic, symbolic, spiritual and/or religious aspects of this practice. Neither does it matter, on a certain level, what you believe about some of the egregiously atrocious things that have happened — and are happening — in the world. Our belief or doubt does not change the big “T” Truth and Reality (of our past). Our belief or doubt only changes how we understand the world and our place in the world. Our belief or doubt only changes how we engage the world — which means our belief or doubt can change the world (of our future).

My hope is that you come along for this ride — on the mat and/or on the blog — and that, somewhere along the way, your heart gets bigger and your mind becomes more open.

“What we create, experience, and suffer, in this time, we create, experience, and suffer for all eternity. As far as we bear responsibility for an event, as far as it is ‘history,’ our responsibility, it is incredibly burdened by the fact that something has happened that cannot be ‘taken out of the world.’ However, at the same time an appeal is made to our responsibility—precisely to bring what has not yet happened into the world! And each of us must do this as part of our daily work, as part of our everyday lives. So everyday life becomes the reality per se, and this reality becomes a potential for action. And so, the ‘metaphysics of everyday life’ only at first leads us out of everyday life, but then—consciously and responsibly—leads us back to everyday life.”

— quoted from “Experimentum Crucis” in Yes to Life: In Spite of Everything by Viktor E. Frankl (with an introduction by Daniel Goleman and an afterword by Franz Vesely)

For Those Who Missed it: The following was originally posted in relation to the January 27, 2021 practice and re-posted today in 2022.

“Io non mori’ e non rimasi vivo;
pensa oggimai per te, s’hai fior d’ingegno,
qual io divenni, d’uno e d’altro privo.”

“I did not die, and I was not alive;
think for yourself, if you have any wit,
what I became, deprived of life and death.”

— quoted from Dante’s The Divine Comedy — Inferno, Canto 34 (lines 25 – 27), translated by Allen Mandelbaum

“I did not die, and yet I lost life’s breath: imagine for yourself what I became, deprived at once of both my life and death.”

— A popular, oft quoted, translation of Dante’s The Divine Comedy — Inferno, Canto 34 (lines 25 – 27)

In November 1301, Florence, Italy was the site of a great political upheaval that destroyed much of the city, established a new government, and resulted in the death or banishment of many of the previous leaders. One of those people exiled from their hometown was Dante Alighieri, who was banished on January 27, 1302. Dante had very briefly served as the city’s prior, one of its highest positions, and when the new government — ruled by his political enemies — took over, he was accused of corruption, ordered to pay a fine, and to spend two years in exile. But, the poet didn’t believe he had done anything wrong and, more to the point, his assets had been seized by the new government. So, his sentence was changed to perpetual exile (with the threat of death if he returned without paying the fine.)

Thus began the poet’s bitter wandering. He was in his mid-30’s; and while he would participate in several failed attempts to retake Florence, much of the remaining 20-odd years of his life would be devoted to writing The Divine Comedy, a long narrative poem divided into three parts: Inferno, Purgatorio, and Paradiso. In the poem, the poet (and his soul) literally travel through Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven (or Paradise) — and metaphorically travel towards God. He is initially guided by the ancient Roman poet Virgil, who represents “human reason;” but it is Beatrice, who symbolizes divine knowledge/love and who first appeared as the object of the poet’s great love in his “little book” La Vita Nuova (The New Life), who guides him from the end of Purgatorio into Paradiso. The poem reflects Dante’s medieval Roman Catholic beliefs and draws strongly from the teachings of Saint Thomas Aquinas, one of the great saints he meets in Paradise.

“Article 1. Whether the soul was made or was of God’s substance?

Objection 1. It would seem that the soul was not made, but was God’s substance. For it is written (Genesis 2:7): ‘God formed man of the slime of the earth, and breathed into his face the breath of life, and man was made a living soul.’ But he who breathes sends forth something of himself. Therefore the soul, whereby man lives, is of the Divine substance.”

— from Summa Theologica (1a Qq. 90, volume 13) by Saint Thomas Aquinas

Even when we have different theological and/or philosophical beliefs, we can agree that breathing is a sign of life, of being alive. However, there are medical situations where someone is breathing and there are no other signs of life. Then there are medical and existential situations where someone is alive, but not living. This latter can be very subjective. Yet, I would argue that there are situations under which almost everyone can categorically agree that it would be really hard to truly live (and feel alive). Those same situations are the ones where it would be hard to take a deep breath in and a deeper breath out.

I think, perhaps, Dante felt that feeling (of being alive, but not living) to a certain degree when he was exiled from his home and had almost everything familiar to him stripped away. However, Dante could still roam, and to a certain degree freely. He lived out his life in relative comfort and he was still free to worship according to his beliefs. He was not persecuted for his beliefs (only, for his politics) nor was he tortured because of his gender, ethnicity, height and appearance, or simply because he had a sibling born on the same day. He could write what he wanted to write and received recognition for his efforts. Furthermore, with the exception of what would happen if he returned to Florence, he did not have to fear being killed for his beliefs — or any of his personal attributes. He may have felt, metaphorically, as if he was “deprived of life and death,” but he still had some control over his life and his ability to live it. On the flip side, the millions of people rounded up, persecuted, imprisoned, tortured, and killed during the Holocaust, spent many of their days in a reality much like the first part of Dante’s poem: they were actually deprived of life and living.

“‘I [will never forget ‘the very bad things’….] I was there and had to see this with my own eyes,’ he said. ‘My mother and my father, and my 7-year-old brother, were murdered in another camp in Treblinka, which is not far from Warsaw.’”

— Israel “Izzy” Arbeiter, a 95-year old Holocaust survivor and lifelong rights activist, telling his story in “Auschwitz survivor reflects on Holocaust Remembrance Day” by Jessica A. Botelho (for NBC 10 News, WJAR, 1/27/2021)

The persecution during the Holocaust started with social and physical segregation; it escalated into government-sanctioned destruction of property; and eventually progressed to the establishment of concentration camps across German-occupied Europe. Millions fled their homes. Millions more would be held captive and tortured. An estimated two-thirds of Europe’s Jewish population was murdered while the world stood by, in some cases in disbelief. In addition to the approximately 6 million Jewish people who died, the Holocaust claimed the lives of an estimated 5 million Slavs, 3 million ethnic Poles, 200,000 Romani people, 250,000 mentally and physically disabled people, and 9,000 members of the LGBTQIA+ community (mostly identified as gay men). This horrifically tragic destruction of society and community during the Holocaust was not, cannot be, over-dramatized. It also should not be forgotten.

In November 2005, the United Nations General Assembly resolution 60/7 designated January 27^th as International Holocaust Remembrance Day. In addition to establishing a day of remembrance and calling for an outreach program, the UN’s resolution also “urges Member States to develop educational programmes… in order to help to prevent future acts of genocide…; rejects any denial of the Holocaust as an historical event, either in full or part; and condemns without reservation all manifestations of religious intolerance, incitement, harassment or violence against persons or communities based on ethnic origin or religious belief, wherever they occur.” The original resolution is reinforced by UN resolution 61/255 (issued in January 2007), which reaffirmed the General Assembly and Member States’ strong condemnation of Holocaust denial and noted “that all people and States have a vital stake in a world free of genocide.”

January 27^th was chosen as a day of remembrance as it was the Saturday, in 1945, when Auschwitz-Birkenau (the largest Nazi concentration and death camp complex) was liberated by the Workers’ and Peasants’ Red Army. The liberators found approximately 7,500 survivors — not realizing at the time that these “survivors” had been designated as too sick or weak to be transported (i.e., marched) to another site as the Allies were closing in on the Nazis. The Red Army also did not initially realize that the camp complex had held at least 1.3 million prisoners, most of whom had been or would be killed before the other camps were liberated in April and May of 1945.

“For in my tradition, as a Jew, I believe that whatever we receive we must share. When we endure an experience, the experience cannot stay with me alone. It must be opened, it must become an offering, it must be deepened and given and shared. And of course I am afraid that memories suppressed could come back with a fury, which is dangerous to all human beings, not only to those who directly were participants but to people everywhere, to the world, for everyone. So, therefore, those memories that are discarded, shamed, somehow they may come back in different ways, disguised, perhaps seeking another outlet.”

“What is a witness if not someone who has a tale to tell and lives only with one haunting desire: to tell it. Without memory, there is no culture. Without memory, there would be no civilization, no society, no future.

After all, God is God, because He remembers.”

— quoted from an April 7, 2008 All Things Considered: “This I Believe” essay by Elie Wiesel

Elie Wiesel was one of the most famous survivors of the Holocaust. He was a teenager when he and his family were sent to the concentration camps. His parents (Sarah Feig and Shlomo Wiesel) and his sister Tzipora would not survive the camps. He was reunited with his older two sisters (Beatrice and Hilda) at a French orphanage. For 10 years, Professor Wiesel went about the business of living his life — but he did not speak or write about his experience during the Holocaust.

He did not speak or write about his younger sister or about how his father guided him with reason and his mother guided him with faith. He did not speak or write about the guilt and shame of being helpless or about how (and why) he maintained the will to survive. Then he began to write and speak and advocate for change. He advocated not only for Jewish rights and causes, but also for non-Jewish people oppressed in places like South Africa, Nicaragua, Kosovo, Sudan, and Armenia. In 1986, he was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize and he received a plethora of awards from around the world, including the United States’ 1986 Medal of Liberty and the 1992 Presidential of Freedom.

Anne Frank was born less than a year after Elie Wiesel and would spend much of Germany’s occupation of the Netherlands in hiding. A mere five months before the Auschwitz-Birkenau camp was liberated Anne’s family and friends were discovered and sent to the concentration camps. She was 15 years old, basically the same age Elie Wisel had been when his family was rounded up. Anne; her mother Edith; her sister Margot; their friends Hermann and Auguste van Pels; and Fritz Pfeffer, the final person to hid in the Annex, all died in the camps or while being transported between the camps towards the end of the war. Anne’s friend, Peter van Pels, died 5 days after the camp he was in was liberated by the Americans. Peter’s parents (Hermann and Auguste), and Fritz Pfeffer all died in the camps.

Otto Frank was the only person hiding in the Annex who survived the camps. He was one of those designated as “too sick” or “too weak” to be transported and therefore was at Auschwitz-Birkenau when the camp complex was liberated on Saturday, January 27, 1945. He would soon discover that his family and friends had not survived. However, a piece of Anne and the family’s history had survived.

Miep Gies, his former secretary and one of the six Annex “helpers,” had held onto Anne’s journals. Those journals, which Anne called “Kitty,” were full of the day-to-day minutia of their lives in hiding; Anne’s thoughts about the state of the world, her feelings about her family and the others in hiding; details about her first kiss and budding romance with Peter; her personal ambitions and desires; and her passions. She wrote about the things that gave her hope: a tree, a patch of blue sky, fresh air, and music.

In fact, on more than one occasion, Anne Frank wrote about being inspired by music. She wrote about receiving a biography of the composer Franz Listz and about listening to “a beautiful Mozart concert on the radio” with Peter. It is presented as a date, a little living in the middle of hiding. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, who was born January 27, 1756, might have especially appreciated that she wrote, “I especially enjoyed the ‘Kleine Nachtmusik.’ I can hardly bear to listen in the kitchen, since beautiful music stirs me to the very depths of my soul.”

“…music, in even the most terrible situations, must never offend the ear but always remain a source of pleasure.”

— quoted from a letter (dated September 26, 1781) from Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart to his father, as printed in W. A. Mozart by Hermann Abert (Editor: Professor Cliff Eisen and Translator: Stewart Spencer)

Saturday playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “012701 Holocaust Liberation & Remembrance”]

A 2024 MUSIC NOTE: The playlists are slightly different, as some music is not available on Spotify. The YouTube playlist also includes videos of Holocaust survivors telling their stories (one of which is embedded below).

A 2022 NOTE: As I mentioned yesterday (and in the previous post), I find it twisted, upside down, and backwards that we need to remind each other that we were all born to be loved (and to love).

Similarly, it boggles my mind that on this day of remembrance there are still people in the world who want to brush the unsightly bits of our collective history under a rug or deny that certain atrocities even existed. Just as bad, in my mind, are people who just refuse to get that staying home and/or socially distancing so that a disease doesn’t kill them or someone they love, is not the same as hiding in an annex so that you or someone you love isn’t murdered. Wearing a mask (of your choosing) is not even close to wearing a yellow star — and it hurts my heart to realize some folks may actually believe otherwise.

I’ve added an embedded video from last year 2021. And, even if I’m “preaching to the choir,” I’m going to keep preaching.

“I first learned about the horrors of the Holocaust listening to my father at the dinner table. The passion he felt that we should have done more to prevent the Nazi campaign of systematic mass murder has stayed with me my entire life. It’s why I took my children to visit Dachau in Germany, and why I hope to do the same for each of my grandchildren — so they too would see for themselves the millions of futures stolen away by unchecked hatred and understand in their bones what can happen when people turn their heads and fail to act.

We must pass the history of the Holocaust on to our grandchildren and their grandchildren in order to keep real the promise of “never again.” That is how we prevent future genocides. Remembering the victims, heroes, and lessons of the Holocaust is particularly important today as Holocaust deniers and minimizers are growing louder in our public discourse. But the facts are not up for question, and each of us must remain vigilant and speak out against the resurgent tide of anti-Semitism, and other forms of bigotry and intolerance, here at home and around the world.”

— “Statement by President Joseph R. Biden, Jr. on International Holocaust Remembrance Day,” released January 27, 2021

Sssh. Listen. Selma is speaking!

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