Picking Up the Fire Thread (mostly a note, excerpt, and links) August 22, 2023
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Art, Books, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Healing Stories, Life, Music, Mysticism, One Hoop, Philosophy, Suffering, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: Annie Proulx, Anushka Fernandopulle, Christopher Robin Milne, gunas, Kenny Loggins, Ray Bradbury, samskaras, samskāras, vasanas, Vedanta, vedanā, Vedānta, yoga, yoga philosophy, Yoga Sutra, Yoga Sutras 2.18-2.20
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Stay safe. Stay hydrated. Notice the path.
”Yet the little boy did grow up and it is the grown-up little boy who is writing now. And something of what he was by nature and something of what he became as a result of his experience will colour his words.”
– quoted from the “Introduction” in The Enchanted Places by Christopher Milne
Yesterday was the anniversary of the birth of Christopher Robin Milne (b. 8/22/1920), whose book The Enchanted Places bridged the gap between what people know – or think they know – about a boy and his toys and the man that grew up. That bridge is full of “a few precious things / [that] Seem to follow throughout all our lives.” Some of those things are specific, tangible and describable: toys, games, people. Some of those things are unspecific: a feeling created and then remembered. The bridge is also made up of barely describable and absolutely indescribable things.
As Patanjali pointed out in Yoga Sūtras 2.18 – 2.20), everything in the world is made up of these things. So, there is always a bridge and every one of us has a story (or stories) that make up our bridge. Or, we can think of the space between our “yesterdays” and today as a thread. Either way, when we pick up that thread today, we find an author born the day after Mr. Milne and another born fifteen years after that.
“I knew something important had happened to me that day because of Mr. Electrico. I felt changed. He gave me importance, immortality, a mystical gift. My life was turned around completely. It makes me cold all over to think about it, but I went home and within days I started to write. I’ve never stopped.
Seventy-seven years ago, and I’ve remembered it perfectly. I went back and saw him that night. He sat in the chair with his sword, they pulled the switch, and his hair stood up. He reached out with his sword and touched everyone in the front row, boys and girls, men and women, with the electricity that sizzled from the sword. When he came to me, he touched me on the brow, and on the nose, and on the chin, and he said to me, in a whisper, ‘Live forever.’ And I decided to.”
– Ray Bradbury (b. 8/22/1920)
The following excerpt is from a 2020 post:
“Every writer’s work is directly or indirectly the result of everything they’ve experienced, done, seen, thought, and heard. Just like each point in our lives is the direct and indirect experience of everything we’ve experienced, done, seen, thought, and heard. Writing is, after all, just a reflection of life. Sometimes, though, it’s hard to distinguish the seams or pull apart the threads that make up the tapestry. But then you read work by writers like Ray Bradbury and Annie Proulx and it’s as if every word and every page is an instruction manual in how things are put together and how things come apart. It’s as if they are saying, ‘Here, here, pull here.’
Both born today, Bradbury (in 1920) and Proulx (in 1935) were and are writers whose works leave impressions, while simultaneously pointing out the impressions that are being left by the lives we lead. Their works, like Bradbury’s Farenheit 451 and “The Sound of Thunder” and Proulx’s The Shipping News and ‘Brokeback Mountain” illustrate the cause and effect continuum that in yoga philosophy is referred to as karma (act, word, and deed – as well as the result or effect of effort) and samskāra (the mental and energetic impression left by the act, word, and deed). In life, while we are living it, we don’t always see where things begin and end. Reading brings our awareness to the edges, the extremes of the continuum – as does a meditation practice.”
Click here to read the entire 2020 post.
“Almost every book I’ve ever read has left its mark.”
– Annie Proulx (b. 8/22/1935)
Please join me today (Tuesday, August 22nd) at 12:00 PM or 7:15 PM for a yoga practice on Zoom. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Tuesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “08222021 Fire Thread”]
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.)
### SECOND STEP: NOTICE WHAT YOU NOTICE. ###
bISeH’eghlaH’be’chugh latlh Dara’laH’be‘ (“If you cannot control yourself, you cannot command others”) August 19, 2023
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Art, Baseball, Books, Changing Perspectives, Faith, Gratitude, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Love, Music, One Hoop, Philosophy, TV, Wisdom, Yoga.Tags: Alexander Courage, Avery Brooks, Benjamin “Ben” Sisko, Gene Rodenberry, guru, Klingon, kripa, Philosophy T. Farnsworth, Science Fiction, shastra kripa, Television, Upanishads, Vedas, William Shatner
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Be kind, stay present, hydrate, and have fun.
“Captain’s Log, Stardate 50929.4. Two days ago, this station felt like a tomb. I’d never seen so many of my crew depressed at the same time. But for some reason, it now seems as though a new spirit has swept through the station, as if someone had opened a door and let a gust of fresh air blow through a musty old house. Why this is happening, frankly, is a mystery to me. After all, nothing has really changed. The Dominion is still a threat, the Cardassians are still threatening to retake the station, and I can still see the clouds of war gathering on the horizon. So why do I sense a newfound sense of optimism in the air?
But maybe I’m overthinking this. Maybe the real explanation is as simple as something my father taught me a long time ago: even in the darkest moments, you can always find something that’ll make you smile.”
– quoted from Star Trek Deep: Space Nine, “In the Cards” – (season 5, episode 25, aired June 9, 1997), voiced by Avery Brooks as Captain Benjamin “Ben” Sisko
We have spent the better part of this year exploring Grace, kripa as the ancients say. We started with Divine Grace, which brought us to Shastra Kripa – the laws of nature which can be found in sacred texts like the Upanishads, which means “seating near devotedly.” That is how Shastra Kripa was initially shared, through an oral tradition. Thus far, our explorations have been fairly straightforward. But, now we have run into a slight glitch. As we touch on the Grace of Guru (and eventually move into Grace of Self), we must delve a little deeper into why people are are sharing wisdom through a box.
Philo T. Farnsworth, born today in 1906, revolutionized television. Gene Roddenberry, born today in 1921, revolutionized what we watch on television. Click here to read more.
Please join me today (Saturday, August 19th) at 12:00 PM, for a 90-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom, where we will boldly go where only you can go (with control). Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) a joyfulpractice.com
Saturday’s (Courage filled) playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “08192020 To Boldly Go with Courage”]
This interview appears on YouTube playlist.
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.
### qaStaH nuq (“What’s happening?”) ###
The McGuffin’s MacGuffin, redux (mostly the music) August 13, 2023
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Art, Books, Changing Perspectives, Healing Stories, Life, Meditation, Movies, Music, One Hoop, Pain, Peace, Philosophy, Suffering, Wisdom, Yoga.Tags: Alfred Hitchcock, Berlin Wall, Ibram X. Kendi, Leland Poague, Potsdam Conference, Richard Freeman, Thomas Leitch, Todd McGowan
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May we all be safe and protected… and hydrated.
“May all of us together be protected….”
– excerpt from the beginning of the “Teaching Shantipat,” chanted in Sanskrit by Richard Freeman (when we are in the studio)
Please join me for a 65-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Sunday, August 13th) at 2:30 PM. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Sunday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “08132022 The McGuffin’s MacGuffin”]
“Hitchcock’s example of the MacGuffin emphasizes its impossible status: not only is the object that one [never has], but one cannot even isolate it as an idea. It remains necessarily empty, and yet functions as an engine for the Hitchcockian narrative. The emptiness of the MacGuffin as an object permits spectators to locate their satisfaction in the striving that it unleashes rather than identifying satisfaction with the discovery of its secret.”
– quoted from “The Empty Object” in “27. Hitchcock’s Ethics of Suspense: Psychoanalysis and the Devaluation of the Object” by Todd McGowan (as published in A Companion to Alfred Hitchcock, edited by Thomas Leitch and Leland Poague)
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.)
### BE Fearless & PLAY. BE WISE.###
FTWMI: The Powerful Possibilities That Come From “A Brother’s Love” August 2, 2023
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in "Impossible" People, Art, Books, Changing Perspectives, Confessions, Healing Stories, Hope, James Baldwin, Life, Love, Maya Angelou, Men, Music, Pain, Science, Suffering, Super Heroes, Tragedy, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: Aimee Lehto, America, Beau Lotto, being present, Boyd Croyner, Civil Rights, Emily Dickinson, inspiration, James Baldwin, Justin Timberlake, Maria Mitchell, Maya Angelou, Muhammad Ali, PRIDE, samskāras, truth, vasanas, yoga
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Wherever you are, wherever you roam, stay hydrated and open to possibilities!
FTWMI: The following was originally posted in 2022. Links and class details have been updated. A practice note related to 2020 and 2021 has been deleted from this version. This is part 2 in my “impossible people” series.
“This also, then, leads on to the idea of whether or not the brain ever does big jumps – or does it only ever do small steps? And the answer is that the brain only ever does small steps. I can only get from here to the other side of the room by passing through the space in between. I can’t teleport myself to the other side. Right? Similarly, your brain can only ever make small steps in its ideas. So, whenever you’re in a moment, it can only actually shift itself to the next most likely possible. And the next and most likely possible is determined by its assumptions. We call it ‘the space of possibility.’ Right. You can’t do just anything. Some things are just impossible for you in terms of your perception or in terms of your conception of the world. What’s possible is based on your history.”
– quoted from the 2017 Big Think video entitled, “The Neuroscience of Creativity, Perception, and Confirmation Bias by Beau Lotto
My idea to spend part of August focusing on “impossible people” – and by that I mean people who do things others believe to be impossible – started long before I had ever heard of neuroscientist Beau Lotto or his work with the Lab of Misfits. In some ways it started with an awareness of certain people’s lives and accomplishments and a curiosity about how they got from A (“impossible”) to Z (“possible”). I mean, on some level I knew about “the space of possibility” and I definitely understood the theory that we live in the past. It is, after all, the science of samskāras (“mental impressions”) and vasanas (the “dwelling places” of habits). I also understood the power of imagination and visualization; often referenced the idea that an epiphany (“striking appearance” or “manifestation”) happens because the mind-intellect is prepared for the revelation; and frequently highlighted how we can be like Emily Dickinson and “dwell in Possibility.”
All of that is backed up by Western science and the Yoga Philosophy. As Dr. Lotto pointed out in his book Deviate: The Science of Seeing Differently, and also in many of his talks and lectures, “We don’t see reality – we only see what was useful to see in the past. But the nature of the brain’s delusional past is this: The past that determines how you see isn’t just constituted by your lived perceptions but by your imagined ones as well. As such, you can influence what you see in the future just by thinking.” And that’s what I hadn’t really used as a point of focus: why some people’s imaginations allow them to think differently and know the baby steps that, to the rest of us, look like giant leaps.
If I were going to pinpoint a single starting point for my change in focus, it would be around July 31, 2016. It was the Feast Day of Saint Ignatius of Loyola and the eve of the anniversary of the birth of Miss Maria Mitchell (and Mr. Herman Melville), and while listening to Justin Timberlake (ostensibly) quote Muhammad Ali to a bunch of teens, I thought, “What combination of things in someone’s past makes their will and determination so strong? What makes someone recognize that “Impossible is just a word…?”
“Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they’ve been given than to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact. It’s an opinion. Impossible is not a declaration. It’s a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary.
Impossible is nothing.”
– quoted from a 2004 Adidas ad campaign written by Aimee Lehto (with final tag line credited to Boyd Croyner), often attributed to Muhammad Ali
A version of the following was originally posted as “A Brother’s Love” on August 2, 2020.
“Given the conditions in this country to be a black writer was impossible. When I was young, people thought you were not so much wicked as sick, they gave up on you. My father didn’t think it was possible—he thought I’d get killed, get murdered. He said I was contesting the white man’s definitions, which was quite right.”
– James Baldwin, quoted from the interview “James Baldwin, The Art of Fiction No. 78” by Jordan Elgrably (printed in The Paris Review, Issue 91, Spring 1984)
Born today in Harlem, New York, in 1924, the author James Baldwin was – by his own words – an impossible person. His life (and career) were, in so many ways, shaped by a combination of history and opinions. First, there was the history of the United States. Then there were the opinions of his stepfather David Baldwin (who he referred to as his father), regarding life in general, plus his stepfather’s opinion of how the world would view him, how the world actually viewed him, and his own ideas about what was possible – or, what was necessary. He spent the ages of 14 – 17 following his father’s footsteps into the ministry and then, when his father died, he took a giant leap. He said, “Those were three years [preaching] which probably turned me to writing.”
Leaping into writing was not Mr. Baldwin’s only leap. He leapt across the pond to Paris, France, twice, even as his writing challenged Western society’s conceptions about race, class, gender, and sexuality. His essays, novels, and plays include Giovanni’s Room, Notes of a Native Son, The Fire Next Time, If Beale Street Could Talk (which was recently made into a movie) and the unfinished manuscript Remember This House (which was adapted to create the 2016 Academy Award-nominated documentary I Am Not Your Negro). Mr. Baldwin first went to Paris with $40 and not a lick of French. He was 24 years old, coming to grips with his sexuality, and escaping what he viewed – what he had witnessed – was a death sentence at the hands of American society.
“Not so metaphorically. Looking for a place to live. Looking for a job. You begin to doubt your judgment, you begin to doubt everything. You become imprecise. And that’s when you’re beginning to go under. You’ve been beaten, and it’s been deliberate. The whole society has decided to make you nothing. And they don’t even know they’re doing it.”
– James Baldwin, quoted from the interview “James Baldwin, The Art of Fiction No. 78” by Jordan Elgrably (printed in The Paris Review, Issue 91, Spring 1984)
From Paris, he was able to not only gain perspective about his experiences of being Black in America (and of being Black and Gay in America), but also to offer those experience back to the United States – in the form of a literary mirror. In words that very much echo Miss Maria Mitchell’s words, he said wanted to see himself, and be seen as, more than “merely a Negro; or, merely a Negro writer.”
In his late 30’s/early 40’s, Mr. Baldwin briefly returned to the United States and physically participated in the Civil Rights Movement and Gay Liberation Movement that he had (from Paris) helped to literally inspire. He became friends with Langston Hughes, Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, Medgar Evers, Lorraine Hansberry, Nikki Giovanni, and Nina Simone (who he and Mr. Hughes convinced to become active in the Civil Rights Movement). He worked with Drs. Kenneth and Mamie Clark, as well as Lena Horne and Miss Hansberry, to discuss the importance of civil rights legislation with President John F. Kennedy.
His friendships, however, were not only with Black artists and activists. He worked with his childhood friend Richard Avedon, marched with Marlon Brando and Charlton Heston, collaborated with Margaret Mead and Sol Stein, and also knew Rip Torn, Jean-Paul Sartre, and Dorothea Tanning. In fact, to read a biography or autobiography of James Baldwin is to read a Who’s Who of activism and artistry in the 20th century. But, you don’t have to settle for a reading a measly biography. If you can get your hands on the 1,884 pages of documents compiled by the FBI, you would be in for quite a treat.
Yes, you read that correctly. For a little over a decade, the FBI collected nearly two thousand pages worth of documents on a man that many Americans may not realize helped convince President Kennedy to send federal troops to defend the civil rights activists marching from Selma to Montgomery. True, it’s not the well-over 17,000 pages they compiled on Martin Luther King (not including the wire-tap documents). Here, however, is some perspective: the FBI only collected 276 pages on authors like Richard Wright (Native Son) and 110 pages on authors like Truman Capote (In Cold Blood) and Henry Miller (Tropic of Cancer). Additionally, FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover showed a particular interest in Mr. Baldwin and actually worked with agents to figure out ways they could ban Mr. Baldwin’s 1962 novel Another Country.
Perhaps Director Hoover was concerned about the fact that James Baldwin started the novel while living in Greenwich Village and continued as he moved back to Paris and then back to the States again, before ultimately finishing the book in Istanbul, Turkey. Perhaps he was concerned about the novels depictions of bisexuality, interracial relationships, and extramarital affairs. It’s just as likely that J. Edgar Hoover was concerned about James Baldwin’s persistent efforts to depict a deep, abiding, almost Divine, brotherly love; a universal experience of grace and growth that would make more things possible for more people. Whatever the FBI Director’s objections might have been, the report of the Justice Department’s General Crimes Section “concluded that the book contains literary merit and may be of value to students of psychology and social behavior.”
“The occurrence of an event is not the same thing as knowing what it is that one has lived through. Most people had not lived — nor could it, for that matter, be said that they had died– through any of their terrible events. They had simply been stunned by the hammer. They passed their lives thereafter in a kind of limbo of denied and unexamined pain. The great question that faced him this morning was whether or not he had ever, really, been present at his life.”
– quoted from Another Country by James Baldwin
“I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.”
– quoted from The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin
When so many of his friends, who were also the leaders of the Civil Rights Movement, were killed, Mr. Baldwin made his second leap back to Paris. Again, it was a leap made out of fear and the basic desire to survive. His grief, anger, horror, and disappointment are all on full display in later works like If Beale Street Could Talk, Just Above My Head, and the 1985 non-fiction book Evidence of Things Not Seen (about the Atlanta child murders). Yet, until his dying day he wrote about love and hope – even using a portion of the Epistle to the Hebrews, from the Christian New Testament, as the title of his book about the Atlanta child murders.
Another place where you can see Mr. Baldwin’s devotion to love, life, and humanity is in the words of his friends; people, who actually knew him, were inspired by him, and some of whom called him Jim or Jimmy. When he died in 1987, Maya Angelou wrote a tribute for The New York Times, entitled “James Baldwin: His Voice Remembered; Life In His Language.” In addition to describing how Mr. Baldwin introduced her to his family as his mother’s newest daughter, she explained that he “opened the [unusual] door” and encouraged her to tell her story.
“Well, the season was always Christmas with you there and, like one aspect of that scenario, you did not neglect to bring at least three gifts. You gave me a language to dwell in, a gift so perfect it seems my own invention….
The second gift was your courage, which you let us share: the courage of one who would go as a stranger in the village and transform the distances between people into intimacy with the whole world; courage to understand that experience in ways that made it a personal revelation for each of us…. Yours was the courage to live life in and from its belly as well as beyond its edges, to see and say what was, to recognize and identify evil, but never fear or stand in awe of it….
The third gift was hard to fathom and even harder to accept. It was your tenderness – a tenderness so delicate that I thought it could not last, but last it did and envelop me it did. In the midst of anger it tapped me lightly like the child in Tish’s womb…. Yours was a tenderness, of vulnerability, that asked everything, expected everything and, like the world’s own Merlin, provided us with the ways and means to deliver. I suppose that was why I was always a bit better behaved around you, smarter, more capable, wanting to be worth the love you lavished, and wanting to be steady enough to bear while it broke your heart, wanting to be generous enough to join your smile with one of my own, and reckless enough to jump on in that laugh you laughed. Because our joy and our laughter were not only all right, they were necessary.”
– quoted from “James Baldwin: His Voice Remembered; Life In His Language” by Maya Angelou (printed in The New York Times Book Review December 20, 1987)
Please join me today (Wednesday, August 2nd) 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 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. [Look for “Langston’s Theme for Jimmy 2022”]
“I love America more than any other country in this world, and, exactly for this reason, I insist on the right to criticize her perpetually.”
“Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within. I use the word love here not merely in the personal sense but as a state of being or a state of grace – not in the infantile American sense of being made happy but in the tough and universal sense of quest and daring and growth….Love is a growing up.”
– James Baldwin
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.)
### OPEN THE DOOR, & LET ME IN (OR OUT)! ###
The Grace of [a] Guru with Good Advice (mostly the music and excerpt) July 22, 2023
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Art, Books, Confessions, Food, Health, Life, Music, Philosophy, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: guru, kripa, pranayama, prāṇāyāma, Tom Robbins
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Peace, blessings, and tacos for everyone!!!
“‘Their breathin’ was deep and smooth and regular. When they brought air into their bodies, they visualized suckin’ in as much energy and vitality as possible; when they expelled air, they visualized blowin’ out all the staleness and flatness inside o’ them.’”
— quoted from “Air” in Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins
The following excerpt is from a 2020 post:
“I’m not much for beer, but I’m a huge fan of a well-made taco and I’m a huge fan of Tom Robbins’s fourth novel, Jitterbug Perfume. Born today in 1932, in Blowing Rock, North Carolina, Robbins is a self-described “hillbilly” who grew up in a Baptist household, went to a military college prep school, studied journalism in college, enlisted in the Air Force, and spent a year as a meteorologist in Korea and two years in Nebraska before being discharged. He returned to Richmond, Virginia (where his family had moved during his early childhood) and started reading poetry in a coffee shop.”
Click here to read more about how this connects to the practice.
Please join me for a 90-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Saturday, July 22nd) at 12:00 PM. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) a joyfulpractice.com
Saturday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “07222020 The Perfect Taco”]
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.
### “‘Breathe properly. Stay curious. And always eat your beets.’” ###
Madiba’s Lessons on Compassion, Peace, and Music (mostly an excerpt with links) July 18, 2023
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in "Impossible" People, Art, Faith, Gratitude, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Music, One Hoop, Pain, Philosophy, Suffering, Tragedy, Wisdom, Yoga.Tags: #46664, Madiba, Nelson Mandela, Winnie Madikizela-Mandela, Yvonne Chaka Chaka
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Peace and many blessings to everyone!
“During apartheid, Winnie Madikizela-Mandela once summoned Yvonne Chaka Chaka to her Soweto home to deliver a note and a message from her husband in prison on Robben Island.
‘It was just a note to say “your music keeps us, your fathers, alive in jail”,’ the Princess of Africa told me earlier this year. I asked her if Madiba ever told her what song of hers he enjoyed most.
‘Umqombothi,’ she replied. It remains her most popular track.”
– quoted from the 12 Dec 2013 City Press article, “Who was Mandela’s favourite singer?” by Charl Blignaut
Nelson Mandela, who was born today in 1918, was more than a number. He was Madiba and “Father of the Nation” and so much more.
The following excerpt is from my 2020 post “Compassion and Peace (with reference to a ‘separated’ time)”:
“Can you imagine, just for a moment, living four lives in one lifetime? Imagine (yourself) simultaneously being a member of a royal family, a lawyer, and a second-class citizen of your country. Now, imagine yourself using your personal privilege to fight the injustices that make it impossible for you to live in a free, just, and equitable society. Now, imagine spending over 27 years in prison (some of it in solitary confinement and some of it with the least amount of privileges) – while simultaneously being heralded around the world as a hero. Finally, imagine being a Nobel Peace Prize winner and President of your country. It’s a lot, right? Now, go back and imagine all of it while also being a husband and father, a son and a friend.”
Please join me today (Tuesday, July 18th) at 12:00 PM or 7:15 PM for a yoga practice on Zoom. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. 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.
Today’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “07182021 More Than 46664”]
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.)
### NOTICE WHAT YOU’RE FEELING ###
What (and How) Do You Recollect? / A Strenuous, Deliberate Life Photo July 12, 2023
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Art, Books, Changing Perspectives, First Nations, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Loss, Music, One Hoop, Pain, Suffering, Tragedy, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: Eastman Kodak, Florence McAnaney, George Eastman, HBCUs, Henry David Thoreau, In Search of Lost Time, Life in the Woods, Marcel Proust, Remembrance of Things Past, Swann's Way, The Captive, Walden, yoga philosophy
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Peace and blessings to all!
The following is a compilation post containing new and revised material from 2020 and 2022, with a link to the 2021 post.
“When from a long distance past nothing subsists, after the people are dead, after the things are broken and scattered, still, alone, more fragile, but with more vitality, more unsubstantial, more persistent, more faithful, the smell and taste of things remain poised a long time, like souls, ready to remind us, waiting and hoping for their moment, amid the ruins of all the rest; and bear unfaltering, in the tiny, and almost impalpable drop of their essence, the vast structure of recollection.”
– quoted from “Overture” in Swann’s Way, Volume 1 of Remembrance of Things Past (or In Search of Lost Time) by Marcel Proust
You’re probably familiar with that old adage that “a picture is worth a thousand words,” but what’s the value of a thousand words that paint a picture? For that matter, what of a million? As I mentioned a few days ago, Marcel Proust wrote over a million words about memories and reflections – and, also, about how we recollect. He wrote about the very human thing we all do: look back over our days.
Sometimes we do it intentionally, deliberately – like the Emperor Marcus Aurelius, who would end each day by reviewing what he had done between rising and retiring. The stoic emperor’s practice is a good reflection meditation, which can help us be more productive and (sometimes) can help us to sleep better. It’s a way to literally put to bed unresolved issues that might otherwise keep us awake. Unfortunately, sometimes, we find ourselves in bed regurgitating memories that no longer serve us.
“We are able to find everything in our memory, which is like a dispensary or chemical laboratory in which chance steers our hand sometimes to a soothing drug and sometimes to a dangerous poison.”
– quoted from The Captive, Volume 5 of Remembrance of Things Past (or In Search of Lost Time) by Marcel Proust
Memories can also pop up, unexpectedly. We can be eating a madeleine or a biscuit, sitting by a moonlit lake, reading a book, listening to music, sitting down to take off or put on our shoes, or practicing on our mat and suddenly – out of nowhere it seems – we are bombarded with a very visceral memory. It seems as if it comes from nowhere, but it actually comes from inside of us. It is visceral because we not only feel it all the way to our bones, it comes out of our bones, out of our tissues, out of our minds and bodies.
So, how do you show up, in the present, when your mind-body can – at any given moment – transport you into the past? How do you make remembering useful? How do you very deliberately, very intentionally, harness the power of your memories and your ability to reflect?
What I’m really asking is: How do you remember with the intention of Thoreau and the eye of Eastman? (And, if you have that “eye of Eastman” how do you use it without (metaphorically) losing focus of the present moment?)
“The question is not what you look at, but what you see.”
– quoted from a journal entry dated August 5, 1851, as printed in The Writings of Henry David Thoreau: Journal, Walden Edition by Henry David Thoreau, compiled and edited by Franklin Benjamin Sanborn and Bradford Torrey
Born today in 1817, in Concord Massachusetts, Henry David Thoreau was a teacher and a writer, who is remembered as a writer and naturalist. He is also remembered as being very close to his brother John. I have heard that the brothers were close despite having different temperaments. Henry David was introverted and all about the books; John was out-going, extroverted, and fun-loving. Additionally, John supported Henry David’s every endeavor – helping him pay for tuition at Harvard and even started a new school when Henry David was fired for objecting to corporal punishment. They shared a lot of memories.
When John died, unexpectedly, in his brother’s arms, Henry David floundered. He lived with Ralph Waldo Emerson’s family for a period of time and serves as a teacher to the Emerson children. Along with Edward Hoar, he accidentally burned down several hundred acres of Walden Woods. Not long after the fire, Emerson allowed Thoreau to retreat to a cabin located on 14 acres of land, about 1.5 miles from Emerson House.
“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”
– quoted from “Where I Lived, and What I Lived For” in Walden, or Life in the Woods by Henry David Thoreau
Henry David Thoreau lived in the cabin, on the banks of Walden Pond, for two years, two months, and two days. He spent that time writing his first book, A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers, which he self-published on May 30, 1849. The book was a memorial for his brother and related the story of a trip the brothers took in 1839. He also wrote the work most people associate with the name Thoreau: a collection of essays entitled Walden, or Life in the Woods.
Both of Thoreau’s books are full of words that painted pictures. He was, after all, a “mental picture” taker. After his brother died unexpectedly, Henry David Thoreau was undoubtedly comforted by the images formed by his words, but think of how he might have felt (or might have written) had he and John been born decades after George Eastman.
“I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion.”
– quoted from “Where I Lived, and What I Lived For” in Walden, or Life in the Woods by Henry David Thoreau
George Eastman, born today in 1854, in Waterville, New York, was an entrepreneur, inventor, and philanthropist who founded the Eastman Kodak Company. He and two older sisters (Ellen Maria and Katie) were initially raised on a 10-acre farm his parents purchased shortly before George was born. Unfortunately, their father – a successful entrepreneur himself – died of a brain disorder when Eastman was almost 8 years old. By then, the Eastman family was living in Rochester, NY and life on the farm was but a memory.
George, who had been self-taught until his father’s death, was sent to private school and his mother took in boarders in order to survive. By the time he was 15, the youngest of his sisters (Katie) had died of polio. Soon after her death, George left school and started a photography business. By the time he was 30 years old, he had patented the first practical “roll of film.” Before the age of 35, he had developed the Kodak Black camera, designed to use roll film. Eventually, his company became the first, and the leading company, to supply film stock. Along the way, George Eastman changed the way people remembered – and he incorporated what would become a billion dollar company (all with a made up name).
“What we do during our working hours determines what we have; what we do in our leisure hours determines what we are.”
– George Eastman
While some of details of their lives are very different, Henry David Thoreau and George Eastman were both very private men, who lived very solitary lives, and who believed in community. They also believed in serving the community – albeit in slightly different ways.
Henry David Thoreau was a transcendentalist and an abolitionist who read the Bhagavad Gītā and believed in civil disobedience. He was criticized for a number of things throughout his lifetime, including the decision to live alone with those regulated to the fringes of society (which some viewed as “unmanly”). His maternal grandfather, Asa Dunbar, led a student revolt at Harvard in 1766 (the first recorded in the United States) and Henry David spent a (very) short period of time in jail for “tax evasion” – which was not the first time he had refused to pay something he thought he should not have to pay. It is possible (and probable) that he also helped others escape tax liens.
“Some have asked what I got to eat; if I did not feel lonesome; if I was not afraid; and the like. Others have been curious to learn what portion of my income I devoted to charitable purposes; and some, who have large families, how many poor children I maintained…. Unfortunately, I am confined to this theme by the narrowness of my experience.”
– quoted from “Economy” in Walden, or Life in the Woods by Henry David Thoreau
George Eastman also lived a solitary life (in that he never married or had children). He was considered a progressive in the social and political sense. He fought the labor union movement by offering worker benefit programs, which included employee profit-sharing for all employees. He also promoted Florence McAnaney to the top position in the personnel department – establishing her as one of the first women to hold an executive position in a major U. S. company. He also founded “an independent non-partisan agency for keeping citizens informed” in Rochester, which continues to this day.
“If a man has wealth, he has to make a choice, because there is the money heaping up. He can keep it together in a bunch, and then leave it for others to administer after he is dead. Or he can get it into action and have fun, while he is still alive. I prefer getting it into action and adapting it to human needs, and making the plan work.”
– George Eastman
Henry David Thoreau was not a financially wealthy man. However his contributions to the world are priceless. His philosophy and viewpoints regarding “unjust laws” (like the Fugitive Slave Law, which he frequently attacked in lectures), influenced Leo Tolstoy, Mahatma Gandhi, and Martin Luther King, Jr. His legacy to the modern world includes over 20 volumes worth of articles, essays, journals, and poetry.
On the flip side, George Eastman was a philanthropist, who donated (often anonymously, as Mr. Smith”) millions of dollars to a variety of organizations including the University of Rochester (which was also the beneficiary of his estate); the Rochester Institute of Technology (RIT); and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT). He established the Eastman School of Music and schools of dentistry and medicine at the University of Rochester, as well as the Eastman Dental Hospital in London, England. Low-income residents of London and other European cities also benefited from Eastman’s generosity as he provided funds for multiple clinics across the pond. Additionally, donated millions to Tuskegee University and Hampton University – historically Black universities.
“Light makes photography. Embrace light. Admire it. Love it. But above all, know light. Know it for all you are worth….”
– George Eastman
Please join me today (Wednesday, July 12th) 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 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. [Look for “07122020 Strenuous, Deliberate Life Photo”]
If you’re interested in another look at how things “develop,” check out my related 2021 post.
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.)
### YS: 1.36 VIŚOKĀ VĀ JYOTIŞMATĪ ###
Introducing… You [and Your Style] (a mini-post with links) July 11, 2023
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Art, Books, Changing Perspectives, Healing Stories, Life, Music, One Hoop, Philosophy, Science, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: Charles Darwin, Cicero, Diogenes, E. B. White, Herbert Spencer, Jhumpa Lahiri, Socrates
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Peace and many blessings to everyone!
“67. This species of composition which the law of effect points out as the perfect one, is the one which high genius tends naturally to produce. As we found that the kinds of sentences which are theoretically best, are those generally employed by superior minds, and by inferior minds when excitement has raised them; so, we shall find that the ideal form for a poem, essay, or fiction, is that which the ideal writer would evolve spontaneously. One in whom the powers of expression fully responded to the state of feeling, would unconsciously use that variety in the mode of presenting his thoughts, which Art demands….”
“68. That a perfectly endowed man must unconsciously write in all styles, we may infer from considering how styles originate. Why is Johnson pompous, Goldsmith simple? Why is one author abrupt, another rhythmical, another concise? Evidently in each case the habitual mode of utterance must depend upon the habitual balance of the nature. The predominant feelings have by use trained the intellect to represent them. But while long, though unconscious, discipline has made it do this efficiently, it remains from lack of practice, incapable of doing the same for the less active feelings; and when these are excited, the usual verbal forms undergo but slight modifications. Let the powers of speech be fully developed, however—let the ability of the intellect to utter the emotions be complete; and this fixity of style will disappear. The perfect writer will express himself as Junius, when in the Junius frame of mind; when he feels as Lamb felt, will use a like familiar speech; and will fall into the ruggedness of Carlyle when in a Carlylean mood. Now he will be rhythmical and now irregular; here his language will be plain and there ornate; sometimes his sentences will be balanced and at other times unsymmetrical; for a while there will be considerable sameness, and then again great variety. His mode of expression naturally responding to his state of feeling, there will flow from his pen a composition changing to the same degree that the aspects of his subject change….”
– quoted from the “iv. The Ideal Writer” in “PART II. CAUSES OF FORCE IN LANGUAGE WHICH DEPEND UPON ECONOMY OF THE MENTAL SENSIBILITIES” of The Philosophy of Style by Herbert Spencer (pub. 1852)
At least two or three times a year, I mention Charles Darwin’s On the Origin of Species (or, more completely, On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection, or the Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle for Life). When I do so, I include a footnote, a reference to The Philosophy of Style by Herbert Spencer, because some people believe that Spencer’s treatise on writing introduced Darwin to the idea of writing about science in a way that would appeal to the masses. There is no denying that the way Charles Darwin wrote On the Origin of Species caused the work to be debated in parlours and scholastic circles, as well as in courtrooms and on lawns.
The way he wrote – the style in which he wrote – that was the overcoat.
“Saepe est etiam sub pallĭolo sordĭdo sapientia.
[English translation: Wisdom often is under a filthy cloak.]”
– Latin proverb (associated with Socrates, Diogenes, and Cicero)
Please join me today (Tuesday, July 11th) at 12:00 PM or 7:15 PM for a yoga practice on Zoom. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. 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.
Today’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “07112020 An Introduction”]
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.)
### WHAT’S UNDERNEATH YOUR OVERCOAT? ###
FTWMI: The best thing since… July 7, 2023
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Art, Faith, Food, Health, Life, Love, Music, Religion, Science, Yin Yoga, Yoga.Tags: #blackouttuesday, asana, C7H8N4O2, chocolate, International Chocolate Day, Ivan-Kupala, John the Baptist, Kupala, Michael Pollan, Nativity of John the Baptist, Otto Frederick Rohwedder, sliced-bread, Susan Steinhauer Hettinger, World Chocolate Day, yoga practice
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Peace and blessings to everyone (and especially to anyone who was celebrating Ivanа-Kupala)!
For Those Who Missed It: The following was originally posted in 2020 (and an abridged version was reposted in 2021). In addition to slight revisions, class details, links, and an additional quote have been updated and/or added.
“He showed the words ‘chocolate cake’ to a group of Americans and recorded their word associations. ‘Guilt’ was the top response. If that strikes you as unexceptional, consider the response of French eaters to the same prompt: ‘celebration.’”
– quoted from In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto by Michael Pollan
When people like something (or someone) – I mean, really, really like something (or someone) – they sometimes say “it’s the best thing since sliced bread” – which is funny when you consider that there’s only one day honoring “sliced bread.” On the flip side, there are at least ten days devoted to chocolate:
- Bittersweet Chocolate Day (January 10th)
- Chocolate Day in Ghana (the second largest producer of cocoa) (February 14th)
- World Chocolate or International Chocolate Day (July 7th and/or 9th)
- World Chocolate Day in Latvia (July 11th)
- Milk Chocolate Day (July 28th)
- S. National Confectioners Association’s International Chocolate Day (September 13th)
- White Chocolate Day (September 22nd)
- National Chocolate Day in the United States (October 28th)
- Chocolate Covered Anything Day (December 16th)
Chocolate contains phenols, which may act as antioxidants in the body and reduce “bad” cholesterol. Other documented health benefits to eating chocolate include the fact that chocolate can cause the brain to release all four of its so-called “love chemicals” (oxytocin, serotonin, dopamine, and endorphins). That, however, doesn’t explain why there are so many different kinds of chocolate. I mean, when you really get down to it, there are probably as many kinds of chocolate – and ways of enjoying chocolate (or, in my opinion, ruining chocolate) – as there are people on the planet. We can break chocolate down as chocolatiers do: into real chocolate (made from chocolate liquor and cocoa butter) and compound coatings/chocolate (cocoa powder and vegetable oil). However, even then there are different kinds of chocolate.
Some people say mass produced chocolate in the USA tastes like plastic compared to chocolate from Europe. (It kinda does, see previous paragraph to understand why.) Some people only like chocolate in candy, while others only appreciate it in cake or brownie form. Dogs can only eat white chocolate, because, well… it’s not actually chocolate. And some people will eat anything – and I do mean anything – covered in chocolate.
“Wie ich Dich liebe, Du meine Sonne,
ich kann mit Worten Dir’s nicht sagen.
Nur meine Sehnsucht kann ich Dir klagen
und meine Liebe, meine Wonne!”
In which way I love you, my sunbeam,
“I cannot tell you with words.
Only my longing, my love and my bliss
can I with anguish declare.”
– German and English lyrics of a love poem (to Alma Mahler-Werfel) associated with the final movement of “Symphony No. 5” composed (and written) by Gustav Mahler (b. 07/07/1860)
Chocolate has a long history of being used as a gift / token of affection and friendship. It also has a long wartime history as it was consumed during the U. S. Revolutionary War and has been a standard part of the United States military ration since the original ration D or D ration bar of 1937. The D ration bar was intended to “taste a little better than a boiled potato.” Arguably, it did not (but, the K ration bars arguably did.) Allied soldiers reportedly gave bits of chocolate to people they freed from concentration camps and it is still something soldiers use to establish connections in the field. According to The Chocolate Store, (US) Americans consume 2.8 billion pounds of chocolate per year (over 11 pounds per person), which is significantly more than our European counterparts – who, I’ll repeat, arguably have access to better mass produced chocolate.
Maybe one of these (chocolate) days, I’ll do a deep dive into why there are so many different days celebrating chocolate. (I mean, other than the obvious commercial reasons and well… because it’s chocolate.) Today, however, I just want to point out that people are as particular about chocolate as they are about beer, wine, and burgers – which makes yoga a lot like chocolate.
None of that, however, points to why we compare really amazing things to sliced bread instead of to chocolate.
“He was a very patient, inventive man. He had an office in the basement of this big house they lived in, in Davenport, Iowa, that he called his dog house. He went there every time he got in trouble with my grandmother. When he was there, he was inventing or thinking about inventing things.”
– Susan Steinhauer Hettinger talking about her grandfather Otto Frederick Rohwedder
Otto Frederick Rohwedder, born today in 1880, in Davenport, Iowa, invented the first automatic bread-slicing machine for commercial use. Rohwedder was an inventor and engineer who studied optometry and spent a short period of time as a jeweler. His work with jewelry and watches inspired him to create machines that would make life easier for people. After a delay, due to a fire that destroyed his original blueprints and prototype, Rohwedder was able to apply for a patent and sell his first bread-slicing machine, which also wrapped the bread to ensure freshness.
Rohwedder sold his first machine to his friend Frank Bench, owner of Chillicothe Baking Company in Chillicothe, Missouri and his second machine to Gustav Papendick in Saint Louis, Missouri in 1928. Papendick reportedly improved upon the way the machine wrapped the bread and applied for his own patents. While there is some argument about who sold the very first loaf of sliced bread using Rohwedder’s machine, documented evidence points to Bench selling the first loaf today in 1928. It was advertised as “the greatest forward step in the baking industry since bread was wrapped.”
Texas Toast not-withstanding, commercially sliced bread was thinner and more easily accessible than a regular loaf of bread – so people ate more bread. Like chocolate, sliced bread was rationed in the United States during World War II. In fact, sliced bread was briefly banned in 1943. Whether the ban was lifted because of the huge outcry from regular every day housewives and people like New York City Mayor Fiorello Henry La Guardia or because there just wasn’t that much saved in the ban is a matter of opinion.
Bottom line, sliced-bread changed people’s lives and the way they moved through their days… kind of like yoga.
NOTE: In 2020, World Chocolate Day and (what I’ll call) “the best day since sliced bread,” fell on the same day as Ivanа-Kupala in the Ukraine, Poland, Belarus and Russia. Ivana-Kupala is a Slavic summer holiday that combines the pagan celebration and fertility rituals of Kupala (and midsummer) with Orthodox Christian observations of the Feast Day of Saint John the Baptist. The observing countries use the Julian calendar (as opposed to the Gregorian calendar) so their celebration actually occurs (for them) on June 23rd – 24th (as opposed to July 6th and 7th, in non-Slavic countries). In 2023, the celebration fell on July 7th, in non-Slavic countries. One of the elemental aspects of the celebrations focuses on the combination of fire and water.
Please join me for a “First Friday Night Special” tonight (July 7th) at 7:15 PM – 8:20 PM (CST), for a virtual Yin Yoga practice on Zoom that may be the best thing since sliced bread. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
This practice is accessible and open to all.
Prop wise, this is a kitchen sink practice. You can practice without props or you can use “studio” and/or “householder” props. Example of “Studio” props: 1 – 2 blankets, 2 – 3 blocks, a bolster, a strap, and an eye pillow. Example of “Householder” props: 1 – 2 blankets or bath towels, 2 – 3 books (similar in size), 2 standard pillows (or 1 body pillow), a belt/tie/sash, and a face towel.
You may want extra layers (as your body may cool down during this practice). Having a wall, chair, sofa, or coffee table may be handy.
Friday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.
For a more vigorous practice, the 2020 playlist is also available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “07072021 Bread & Chocolate”]
Consider buying chocolate from one of these brands!
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.)
Revised 07/07/2023.
### C7H8N4O2 ###
A Rest for Those Riding, Fighting, and Working for Freedom – An Invitation July 1, 2023
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in "Impossible" People, Art, Books, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Dharma, Gratitude, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Music, Pain, Peace, Philosophy, Suffering, Tragedy, Vairagya, Wisdom, Yoga.Tags: avidya, avidyā, Caesar Rodney, Declaration of Independence, Frank B. Lord, freedom, independence, Isaac Sheffield, John Quincy Adams, Joseph Cinqué, Joseph Cinquez, liberty, Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, SCOTUS, Sengbe Pieh, Supreme Court, Yoga Sutra 1.31
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Many blessings to everyone!
This is an extra post for July 1st, specifically related to the 2022 practice.
“The vast range of experiences life offers falls into two main categories: desirable and undesirable. The nine obstacles described in the previous sutra rob the body of vitality, strength, stamina, and agility, and the mind of clarity and peace. The absence of these obstacles is the ground for joy.”
– quoted from the commentary on Yoga Sūtra 1.31 from The Secret of the Yoga Sutra: Samadhi Pada by Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, PhD
In Eastern philosophies, like Yoga and Buddhism, freedom, independence, and liberty are directly related to suffering and bondage. That is to say, there is a focus on how we free ourselves of dysfunctional/afflicted thought patterns – like avidyā (“ignorance” or “nescience”) – and what happens when we are free of those root causes of suffering. Therefore, I am always talking about freedom – even when I never mention the word. This is especially true in June and July, when there is a certain amount of hyperawareness with regard to freedom, independence, and liberty.
Still, it is super surreal to have so many people focused on celebrating freedom, independence, and liberty while so many people are simultaneously focused on taking away freedom, independence, and liberty. What makes it even more surreal is that there are also people fighting to preserve (and even extend) the freedom, independence, and liberty that was declared back in 1776.
July 1776.
Normally, July 1st is a day when my focus is on the work/effort to declare independence, secure freedom, and preserve liberty. I think about how Caesar Rodney, a Delaware delegate of the American Continental Congress and Brigadier General of Delaware Militia (just to name a few of his roles), rode two days – across muddy roads, rickety bridges, slippery cobblestones, and swollen streams; enduring extreme heat, dust, and thunderstorms; all while suffering from asthma and wearing a face mask to cover his cancer-ravage jaw – just to represent his constituents and to “vote for independence” on July 2, 1776. And, I know, he wasn’t specifically riding for me (or people like me), but that’s not the point. The point is that he did what he did for liberty, for freedom, for independence.
Sometimes, I fast forward and mention the efforts of Sengbe Pieh (also known as Joseph Cinqué) and the other enslaved Mende, West Africans who revolted on the slave ship La Amistad sometime around July 1, 1839. I might also mention how John Quincy Adams – then a 73-year old former president and, at the time, an active member of the House of Representatives – helped them secure their freedom through the U. S. Courts system. I might even mention the work of the United States Supreme Court which, on March 9, 1841, announced that, in the case of United States v. Schooner Amistad, 40 U.S. (15 Pet.) 518 (1841), the majority of the justices (7 of 9) decided that the Africans were indeed free individuals who had been kidnapped; that they had the right to assert their freedom; and that (as Justice Joseph Story wrote in the majority opinion) “the United States are bound to respect their rights.”
“Brothers, we have done that which we purposed, our hands are now clean for we have Striven to regain the precious heritage we received from our fathers.”
– Sengbe Pieh (also known as Joseph Cinqué or Joseph Cinquez) as quoted on the lithograph by Isaac Sheffield, commissioned by The New York Sun (published on August 31, 1839, erroneously credited to “James Sheffield”)
Yes, normally, I focus on the effort and wait until the third or the fourth to focus on resting.
However, in the last few years, I have seen more and more freedom fighters burning out. I have seen more and more people doubting their own efforts and succumbing to the stress of what feels like a never-ending battle. Maybe, like me, these people grew up with the old sayings about how there’s “no rest for the weary” and that we’ll sleep when we’re dead. Maybe they don’t believe the can afford the rest when there is so much to do. But….
“On a ride of more than 80 miles in sultry weather, rest is necessary for both man and beast. Where Rodney stopped on his tiresome journey for food and a breathing spell for his noble steed is not known. Doubtless it was at some of the country dwellings along the route. He was no egotist and never told much about the story himself. It was simply a day’s work with him, and not a matter of which to boast.
A deadly cancer in his face, which had been growing for several years, must have burned and pained him, but the fire of patriotism also burned in his heart and physical discomfiture did not deter him from carrying on. Nightfall found him still many miles from Philadelphia, and his weary mount must have rest.”
– quoted from the Sunday, June 28, 1931, The Washington Post article, “Little Sung Heroes of Independence: Caesar Rodney, Death in the Saddle With Him, Rode From His Home in New Castle, by the Sweet Waters of the Delaware, to Philadelphia and Made the Fourth of July Possible.”* by Frank B. Lord
While there is something to the idea of mind over matter, there is a point where the mind-body says, “Nope, we’re done.” In that moment, we may appear to keep going, but we may not be very effective. In that moment, we must remember that we need to rest and digest in order to create – and, make no mistake, the act of fighting to preserve freedom is a creative act.
So, I offer you this invitation. Take a moment to release, relax, and rest. Take a moment to put down your burdens and allow yourself to be supported. Take a moment to restore yourself to your own true nature. In doing so, you strengthen your connection to your power and to your purpose.
Last year (2022), July 1st was a Friday. More specifically, it was a First Friday and, therefore, we had the opportunity to focus on rest with a 65-minute restorative yoga practice. I invite you to request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
The playlist for this practice is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “07012020 Caesar Rodney’s Ride”]
NOTE: For the restorative practice, you can start with Track #1 or, for a less dynamic option, start with Track #9, #10, or #11.
*NOTE: The Washington Post (1931) article is a dramatic re-telling, rather than a news article.
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.)
A Joyful Practice 