All These Easter Eggs Are About Hope… Not Blind Optimism August 23, 2020
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in "Impossible" People, Abhyasa, Art, Books, Changing Perspectives, Depression, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Loss, Music, Pain, Philosophy, Poetry, Suffering, Tragedy, Vairagya, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: Adrienne Wilkinson, Captain Lexxa Singh., Gospel According to Matthew, J. M. Barrie, Robert Louis Stevenson, Stoicism, Teddy Roosevelt, Theodore Roosevelt, William Ernest Henley
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“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
– quoted from “The Man in the Arena” portion of the “Citizenship in a Republic” speech by former President Theodore Roosevelt (delivered April 23, 1910, Sorbonne, Paris)
It is not uncommon, when we turn inward, to find a head full of doubt; but, we also find a road of promise. We may find fear; but also strength, wisdom, and courage. Even when life is hard, strenuous, if we keep on pushing, we get a little bit stronger. There may be cracks, but that’s how the light gets in and…
OK, you get the picture. There’s a point where certain kinds of inspiration becomes a little syrupy, a little much, and even a little trite. This can especially be true when we are enduring a challenging time – or, as is the case now, challenging times. But, you know what never gets syrupy? You know what never gets trite? The story of someone who demonstrates that despite their hard times, they can still feel the spirit in their soul. The story of someone who is in a dark place, and yet still express gratitude for their unconquerable soul. The story of someone who may be far from home, with broken bones and a broken heart, a little rusty, but still runnin’.
We may not always want to hear one of those stories of people who are having the same hard time as us – or a significantly harder time than us – and still manages to find some joy in life, smile, and move forward. Sometimes we want to wallow in our muck, moan a few verses of “Oh, woe is me” and “Nobody Knows the Troubles I’ve Seen.” And we absolutely get to do that. Everybody gets to deal, cope, grieve, rail (or rage) against the machine in their own way and in their own time. But, let’s be honest, even that gets old and trite.
You know what never gets old? The stories of people who wrestle with the demons inside and outside, seen and unseen, and are still unbroken never gets old.
“I will now make a confession: It was the sight of your maimed strength and masterfulness that begot Long John Silver … the idea of the maimed man, ruling and dreaded by the sound, was entirely taken from you.”
– quoted from a letter to William Ernest Henley, written by Robert Louis Stevenson
Born today in 1849, in Gloucester, England, William Ernest Henley was a poet, a literary critic, an editor, and poet whose work and life has inspired billions of people around the world, including presidents and prime ministers, royalty, soldiers, athletes, captains of industries (and of starships), and other writers. Even though he wrote and published thousands of poems, he is remembered for one: an originally untitled work that we now call “Invictus.” It is a poem that in many ways encapsulates the old fashioned understanding of stoicism.
In modern times, we often think of someone who stuffs down their pain and pretends like it doesn’t exists. We might even associate the philosophy with having a “stiff upper lip” – which is the characteristic of someone who “grins and bears it” (but is in too much pain to actually grin). We might even think of someone who is stoic as someone who is unhappy. However, to the ancient stoics like Epictetus, Seneca, and the Emperor Marcus Aurelius stoicism was about finding happiness within a given fate, which meant accepting ones fate and figuring out how to move forward. And, William Ernest Henley was nothing if not stoic.
Henley wrote a whole slew of poems, including “Invictus,” which are referred to as his hospital poems (and one of his published collections is called In Hospital), because he spent a great deal of time in the hospital. From the age of 12, he suffered from a kind of tuberculosis that affected his bones and resulted in partial amputation of his left leg by the age of 20. His boisterous attitude, massive size, cleverness, and ability to laugh (loudly) – not to mention his one leg – inspired Robert Louis Stevenson to create the character Long John Silver in Treasure Island. (Although she died at a young age, Henley’s daughter Wendy shared some of her dad’s spirit and inspired one of the main characters of J. M. Barrie’s Peter Pan.)
Not long after the amputation of his left leg, doctors told Henley that they need to amputate his right leg. Henley fought against the idea, sought out other treatments, and eventually came under the care of the surgeon Joseph Lister, whose work with antiseptic surgery would save billions of lives (and inspire the creation of Listerine™). Dr. Lister, thorough a variety of treatments, was able to save Henley’s leg and enable Henley to live a relatively active life for almost thirty years. It was during one of those Lister-related hospital stays that Henley wrote “Invictus.”
“Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.”
– quoted from “The Sermon on the Mount,” The Gospel According to Matthew (7:14)
“It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.”
– quoted from “Invictus” by William Ernest Henley
Please join me for a “spirited” 65-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Sunday, August 23rd) at 2:30 PM. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. PLEASE NOTE: Zoom 5.0 is in effect. If you have not upgraded, you will need to give yourself extra time to log into Zoom. You can always request an audio recording of this practice (or any practice) via email or a comment below.
Today’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. (The playlists have slightly different before/after practice content.)
If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can call 1-800-273-TALK (8255). You can also call the TALK line if you are struggling with addiction or involved in an abusive relationship. The Lifeline network is free, confidential, and available to all 24/7. YOU CAN TALK ABOUT ANYTHING.
Format updated 08/2023.
### I WILL LEAVE A LIGHT ON ###
Consider What’s Upstream August 22, 2020
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Art, Books, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Healing Stories, Life, Music, Philosophy, Suffering, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: Annie Proulx, Anushka Fernandopulle, Ray Bradbury, samskaras, samskāras, vasanas, Vedanta, vedanā, Vedānta, yoga, yoga philosophy, Yoga Sutra, Yoga Sutras 2.33-2.34
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[My apologies to Anushka Fernandopulle, the teacher whose name I couldn’t remember last week, but whose dharma talk about getting on the right or wrong emotion/thought train has stuck with me for 6 years! You can find her article here and one of her talks here.]
“There must be something in books, things we can’t imagine, to make a woman stay in a burning house, there must be something there. You don’t stay for nothing.”
– quoted from Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
“Almost every book I’ve read has left its mark.”
– Annie Proulx
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.
“Quoyle: A coil of rope.
‘A Flemish flake is a spiral of coil of one layer only. It is made on deck, so that it may be walked on if necessary.’ THE ASHLEY BOOK OF KNOTS”
– quoted from The Shipping News by Annie Proulx
“‘Stay on the Path. Don’t go off it. I repeat. Don’t go off. For any reason! If you fall off, there’s a penalty.’”
– from “A Sound of Thunder” by Ray Bradbury
If you could connect all the dots, follow all the threads, and re-trace every path of your life and the lives that intersect your life, you would have the story of how you got where you are, why you think what you think, and why you feel what you feel. There is a layer of that statement that might feel obvious and trite – or maybe even oversimplified. Go a little deeper, however, and you start to appreciate the layers and layers of vibrations that coil and stack to create this moment.
According to Eastern philosophies like Vedānta and Buddhism, we experience 108 types of sensations, emotions, or feelings. If you click here to see the math, you will notice that our attitudes towards what we perceive can be positive, negative, or neutral. Experience teaches us that when we have negative attitudes we are on a direct path towards suffering. (NOTE: As Patanjali points out in the sūtras, positive attitudes can also, eventually, lead to suffering, but that’s the scenic route.) The direct path to suffering manifests in 27 different ways (and, according to some commentary, there are 81 sub-categories). Those 27 manifestations break down as follows:
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3 ways afflicting thoughts and acts of violence are put into action (by ourselves, through others, or by tacit (silent) consent)
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3 mental conditions that inspire dysfunctional or violent acts (greed, anger, confusion)
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3 degrees of intensity (mild, moderate, or intense)
This week’s yoga sūtra is Patanjali’s way of giving us sign posts that indicate, as Anushka Fernandopulle might say, that we have gotten on the wrong train. By breaking down the way in which our dysfunctional or afflicted thoughts lead to dysfunctional or violent words and acts, Patanjali reinforces the importance of the yamas and niyamas, the ethical components of the practice, as a way to train the mind. Getting on the right train of thought begins by noticing our thoughts and how they become our words and deeds. Notice, also, that from Patanjali’s perspective one is not off the hook because the violent act is perpetrated by another person – neither are we off the hook if our only “crime” is not saying something when we see something.
Yoga Sūtra 2.33: vitarkabādhane pratipakşabhāvanam
— “When troublesome thoughts prevent the practice (of yamās and niyamās), cultivate the opposite thoughts.”
Yoga Sūtra 2.34: vitarkā himsādayah kŗtakāritānumoditā lobharkrodhamohapūrvakā mŗdumadhyādhimātrā duhkājñānānantaophalā iti pratispakşabhāvanam
– “These troublesome thoughts are put into action by ourselves (directly), by others (indirectly caused by ourselves), or by our approval of others (and their actions). All of these are preceded by, or performed through, anger, greed, or confusion and can be mild, moderate, or intense in nature. Cultivating opposite thoughts is a reminder that these troublesome thoughts lead to unending suffering.”
Annie Proulx named one of her main characters after a coil of rope and used quotes from The Ashley Book of Knots to indicate what inspired her to write a novel. Ray Bradbury explained that he was “putting one foot in front of the other” when he described the inspiration for one of his short stories. If you don’t know where to begin, there’s more confusion; but, follow the thread and suddenly things make more sense.
Please join me for a 90-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Saturday, August 22nd) at 12:00 PM. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. Give yourself extra time to log in if you have not upgraded to Zoom 5.0.
Today’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. (This is the “07112020 An Introduction” playlist.)
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.
Format (& correction to RB birth year) updated 08/22/2023
### FIRST STEP: NOTICE. ###
The Impossible Cornerstones of Liberty August 6, 2020
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in "Impossible" People, Art, Changing Perspectives, Donate, Faith, Gratitude, Healing Stories, Hope, Karma Yoga, Poetry, Super Heroes, Wisdom, Women, Writing, Yoga.Tags: Abraham Lincoln, Civil Rights, Civil War, Confiscation Acts, Frédéric-Auguste Bartholdi, Gertrude Rush, Gustave Eiffel, Hiroshima, inspiration, Jessie Carney Smith, Joseph Pulitzer, Nagasaki, National Bar Association, Richard Morris Hunt, slavery, Statue of Liberty, Thurgood Marshall, Voting Rights Act, yoga
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[This is the post for Wednesday, August 5, 2020.]
“‘Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!’ cries she
With silent lips. ‘Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!’”
– from the poem “The New Colossus” by Emma Lazarus
Today (August 5th) in 1884, when the cornerstone of the Statue of Liberty’s pedestal was placed on a rainy Bedloe’s Island, it seemed impossible to complete the project meant to be a testament to freedom, friendship, and the spirit of the people. People in France provided the funds for the statue designed by the sculptor Frédéric-Auguste Bartholdi (with scaffolding created by Gustave Eiffel), while people in the United States were meant to pay for the base and pedestal designed by Richard Morris Hunt. The only problem was that the Americans were short…about $100,000 short.
Hunt’s design for the pedestal and base incorporated the eleven-point star foundation of the army fort (Fort Wood) which had been built in 1807 and abandoned during the Civil War. He always intended his design to be simple, so as not to take away from the statue itself, but raising money for his design turned out to be such a challenge that he scrapped twenty-five feet from the height of his original design. He also cut back on materials so that instead of the pedestal and base being constructed entirely out of granite, he had to make do with concrete walls covered with a granite-block face. His cost cutting measures still might not have been enough if a certain newspaper man hadn’t decided to tap into the spirit of the people and, in doing so, overcame what some viewed as an impossible obstacle. That newspaper man was Joseph Pulitzer and on March 16, 1885 he implored people in the United States to give what they could, even if it was a penny, in order to pay for the base and pedestal of the Statue of Liberty. Starting with an ad and a series of front page editorials, he was able to crowd fund over $100,000 in about 5 months.
“We must raise the money! The World is the people’s paper, and now it appeals to the people to come forward and raise the money. The $250,000 that the making of the Statue cost was paid in by the masses of the French people – by the working men, the tradesmen, the shop girls, the artisans – by all, irrespective of class or condition. Let us respond in like manner. Let us not wait for the millionaires to give us this money. It is not a gift from the millionaires of France to the millionaires of America, but a gift of the whole people of France to the whole people of America.
Take this appeal to yourself personally. It is meant for every reader of The World. Give something, however little. Send it to us. We will receive it and see that it is properly applied.”
– quoted from The New York World editorial by Joseph Pulitzer, 1885
Joseph Pulitzer offered people a six inch metal replica of Lady Liberty (described as a “perfect fac-simile”) if they donated a dollar to the “Pedestal Fund” established by Pulitzer’s paper the New York World and a twelve inch replica if they donated $5. While that may not seem like a lot today, keep in mind that this was after the Financial Panic of 1873 (which created a depression in the United States and Europe). Also, interest seemed to be in short supply since the United States was still trying to recover from the Civil War – which left many Americans desiring heroic public art rather than allegorical public art. But, Joseph Pulitzer had a way with words and there were a group of people – immigrants – who were inspired to donate specifically because of the symbolism of the statue. Ultimately, over 125,000 people donated – most donating a dollar or less. They not only donated to receive the replicas, they donated via auctions, lotteries, and boxing matches. They donated by depriving themselves of things they needed or things they wanted. Some kids donated by pooling their “circus” and candy money. Some adults donated what they would normally spend on drinks. At the end of the fundraising, Joseph Pulitzer printed every donor’s name in the New York World – regardless of how little or how much they donated.
The cornerstone is the first stone set in the foundation of a building or structure. All other stones are set in reference to the cornerstone; thereby making it the very foundation of the foundation. It determines the overall position of the structure and is often placed with a certain amount of pomp and circumstance. It is usually inscribed with the date of its placement and often includes a time capsule, which includes some clues as to what was important to the people who attended the ceremony. Such was the case with Lady Liberty’s pedestal cornerstone, which was placed over a square hole dug for a copper time capsule. The time capsule contained a number of articles, including the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United States – both documents considered to be the cornerstones of the United States and the ultimate law of the land.
Although we don’t always think of it this way, one of the cornerstones of the legal system in a commonwealth is a bar. It might be wooden railing, it might be metal railing; however, historically, this bar separated those within the legal profession (specifically the judge and those who had business with the court) from everyone else. In particular, “everyone else” referred to law students whose aspirations were to “pass the bar” – meaning they would be on the other side of the symbolic railing. This symbolic railing is also used to refer to professional organizations, membership in which is sometimes required in order for an attorney to practice law in a particular jurisdiction. Let’s skip “state bars” for a second and just focus on “voluntary” bar associations – which, in the United States are private organizations which serve as social, educational, and lobbying organizations. Legal professionals can not only use these bar associations to network with other professionals and the general public (hence expanding their practice), they can also advocate for law reform. I place “voluntary” in quotes, because I’m not sure how possible it is to practice law in the United States without being a member of a “bar association” (not to be confused with a state bar).
Even if it’s possible to practice without being a member of a bar association – and I trust one of you lawyer yogis will educate me with a comment below – I imagine it would be quite challenging (maybe even impossible) to successfully practice. Especially, back when there was only one major bar association in the United States. And, especially back in the 1920’s when your race and gender prevented you from joining said association. Such was the plight of Gertrude Rush (née Durden), born today (August 5th) in 1880 in Navasota, Texas. Ms. Rush not only became the first African-American woman to be admitted to the Iowa (state) bar, for about 32 years she was (sometimes) the ONLY female attorney practicing in the state of Iowa (1918 – 1950). She placed a particular emphasis on women’s (legal) rights in estate cases and had a passion for religion, extensively studying the 240 women whose stories are featured in the Bible. Many within the local court referred to her as the “Sunday school lawyer.” She took over her husband’s law practice and, in 1921 (just a year after women’s right to vote was ratified by the United States Congress) she was elected the president of the Colored Bar Association; however, it was impossible for her to be admitted to the American Bar Association. She tried. So, did several other African-American lawyers. They tried because the ABA had one Black lawyer and was, therefore “integrated.” Eventually, however, they stopped trying to join an organization that didn’t want them and started their own organization.
“…a very worn Bible is almost as prominent as the well-thumbed Iowa code on the desk of Mrs. Gertrude E. Rush.”
– quoted from “Iowa’s Only Negro Woman Lawyer Firmly on the Golden Rule” article about Gertrude Rush, located in Iowa Public Library (excerpt printed in Notable Black American Women, Book 2 by Jessie Carney Smith
Gertrude Rush was one of the founding members of the Negro Bar Association, which was incorporated on August 1, 1925 with 120 members (which was about 11 – 12% of the Black lawyers in the US at the time). Eventually renamed, the National Bar Association, the NBA ” addressed issues such as professional ethics, legal education, and uniform state laws, as well as questions concerning the civil rights movement in transportation discrimination, residential segregation, and voting rights.” The NBA supported civil rights groups by providing legal information, filing outside legal briefs (amicus curiae), and blocking federal court nominees who opposed racial equality. As a bar association, however, the NBA did not directly participate in civil rights activities. Instead, NBA members like Gertrude Rush and (eventual) Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall became members of the NAACP (National Association for the Advancement of Colored People).
It was as part of the NAACP’s legal team that Justice Marshall argued cases like Donald Gaines Murray in Murray v. Pearson, 169 Md. 478, 182 A. 590 (1936) and Brown v. Board of Education of Topeka, 347 U.S. 483 (1954). Raymond Pace Alexander founded the National Bar Journal (1941), which became a way for Black lawyers to challenge legal principles which conflicted with the interest of African-Americans. The Rev. W. Harold Flowers, a co-founder with Ms. Rush and a former president of the NBA (who would eventually be appointed as an associate justice of the state Court of Appeals), was the attorney whose motions in 1947 resulted in a reconfigured jury after he pointed out that the Arkansas court had not had a Black juror in 50 years. Additionally, the NBA established free legal clinics in 12 states, thereby creating the foundational cornerstone for the poverty law and legal clinics of today.
Gertrude Rush was also one of the organizers of the Charity League, which coordinated the hiring of a Black probation officer for the Des Moines Juvenile Court; created the Protection Home for Negro Girls, a shelter; and served on the boards of a host of other women’s organizations.
Stay tuned for news about when I will resume classes. If you want to practice with one of the previously recorded classes, I would suggest June 17th (a Lady Liberty class with a lot of arm movement, good for the brain and shoulders – some of you call it a “sobriety test”). The playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. (The playlist starts with instrumental music. If your Spotify is on shuffle, you will want your music volume low at the beginning of the practice.)
Feel free to email me at Myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com if you would like a copy of the recordings from Wednesday, June 17th.
As I running late, this August 5th post is actually being published on August 6th, which the anniversary of President Lyndon B. Johnson signing the Voting Rights Act of 1965 into law. The act has been amended at least five times, to close legal loopholes and reinforce the rule of law.
Today, August 6th, is also the anniversary of President Abraham Lincoln signing the Confiscation Act of 1861 and the U. S. bombing of Hiroshima in 1945. President Lincoln wasn’t sure of the legality and effects of the Confiscations Acts of 1861 and 1862, he signed them into law anyway. To this day, people are still debating the effects of the bombings on August 6th and 9th (Nagasaki), both of which clearly broke the Golden Rule (and the not then established Geneva Convention).
As you practice today, hold a neighbor in your hearts and minds with friendship and kindness. Offer your efforts, no matter how small, as a token of that friendship and kindness. As so many people suffer due to current events, may we take a moment to remember those who are still suffering due to our shared past. Let us not forget those who are still grieving and healing from past wounds. May our efforts bring us all closer to peace, harmony, and benevolence.
ERRATA: The original post listed the wrong year for the Statue of Liberty’s cornerstone placement.
### OM SHANTI SHANTI SHANTHI OM ###
A Brother’s Love August 2, 2020
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in "Impossible" People, Art, Books, Changing Perspectives, Confessions, Healing Stories, James Baldwin, Life, Loss, Love, Maya Angelou, Men, Pain, Poetry, Suffering, Super Heroes, Writing, Yoga.Tags: Aimee Lehto, America, being present, Boyd Croyner, Civil Rights, inspiration, James Baldwin, Justin Timberlake, Maria Mitchell, Maya Angelou, Muhammad Ali, PRIDE, truth, yoga
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“Impossible is just a 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 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
Yesterday I referred to Maria Mitchell as an impossible woman. Back in 2016, thanks to Justin Timberlake quoting Muhammad Ali to a bunch of teens, I started thinking about what it meant to be an impossible person and spent the first week in August highlighting impossible people. Born today in Harlem, New York, in 1924, the author James Baldwin is – by his own words – my second impossible person.
“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)
Mr. Baldwin’s life (and career) were, in so many ways, shaped by a combination of opinions. There were the opinions of his stepfather David Baldwin (who he referred to as his father) about 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 – despite the fact that 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 had 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)
I have cancelled class today and tomorrow night, but encourage you to practice. Practice with those aforementioned gifts and especially the second and third gifts – with courage and tenderness that has you lifting the corners of your mouth up to your ears and laughing out loud.
In the past, I have used a variation of my “Langston Hughes” playlist, which features Miles Davis, Charles Mingus, Charlie Parker, and a whole lot of Bach. You are welcome to use my “Selma to Montgomery” playlist, which is available on YouTube and Spotify. However, if you have time, I would encourage you to grab some Nina Simone, Lena Horne, Harry Belafonte (“Merci Bon Dieu” comes to mind, of course), Sammy Davis, Jr., and Joan Baez – and then mix in some of the aforementioned jazz.
“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
2022 Errata: This post has been updated to correctly credit the Adidas ad associated with Muhammad Ali and to clarify that all references to James Baldwin’s “father” and “stepfather” refer to David Baldwin. Additionally, some syntax has been revised and music links have been update.
### OPEN THE DOOR, & LET ME IN (OR OUT)! ###
Practice Responsibly July 26, 2020
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Art, Books, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Confessions, Dharma, Faith, Fitness, Healing Stories, Health, Hope, Karma, Life, Men, Music, One Hoop, Pain, Peace, Philosophy, Science, Suffering, Tantra, Tragedy, Wisdom, Women, Writing, Yoga.Tags: Amazing Fantasy, Anneke Lucas, asana, B.K.S. Iyengar, David Swenson, gurus, hatha yoga, Krishnamacharya, Spiderman, Sri Pattabhi Jois, Stan Lee, The Science of Yoga, vinyasa, William J. Broad, yoga philosophy, yoga practice, Yoga Sutra
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“…aware at last that in this world, with great power there must also come — great responsibility!”
– quoted from Amazing Fantasy #15 by Stan Lee, et al, August 1962
In 1962, at the end of the comic book that introduced Spiderman to the world, Peter Parker is faced with the tragic and life-altering loss of his Uncle Ben Parker. This loss leads to the life-altering realization that he can never again take his actions for granted. The words above, which appear in the final panel, are perhaps the most well-known and oft quoted words in comic book history. Really, in world history, when you consider that the words (and the idea behind them date back) to the French Revolution. We’re human; so, context matters. The way we receive the message, or even internalize the lesson, is different if we first read it in the final panel of a fantasy comic book versus if we’re studying historical documents from the French National Convention in 1793. We may discount the message, or take it more seriously, when it is attributed to beloved elder (like Ben Parker) versus when it is attributed to British Prime Minister (like William Lamb or Winston Churchill). Especially in a situation like this, there is a certain gravitas that comes not only from the words, but also from the speaker and whether their life is a reflection of the words.
“Are you practicing?”
– David Swenson, on the cover of his Ashtanga Yoga: The Practice Manual
Do they practice what they preach? Seeing the contradiction and/or hypocrisy, do we do as they say or as they do? Or, do we completely disregard the benefit of the lesson, because it is associated with someone who behaved badly?
These are the questions a lot of people are asking right now, in regards to race, sex, sexuality, religion, and the forming of countries (in particular the United States) and companies. They are also questions some of us in spiritual and religious communities have been asking for years with regard to our practices. Part of the challenge in answering these questions, with regard to bad behavior associated with the founders of an institution, is ignorance about the true nature of thing (avidyā). We may not always know about the bad behavior when we first become associated with an institution and, sometimes, the way in which we learn about the bad behavior makes it seem not so bad. Doesn’t matter if we are born into a society or join a community as an adult, once we are involved, our experiences are very personal and, as a result, we associate these situations with our sense of self – or false sense of self (asmitā). We define ourselves based on our attachment to things we like (rāga) and our aversion to things we dislike (dveşa) – even though sometimes don’t understand the true nature of what we like and dislike (hence, more avidyā). Finally, we are challenged by these questions, because answering may mean we lose something very meaningful to us, we may lose our sense of who we are, and we fear those losses like Peter Parker fears the loss of his uncle.
Notice, all the challenges I mentioned above are identified in the Yoga Sūtra as kleśāh (“afflicted” or “dysfunctional”) and therefore they are the very things that lead to suffering. Patanjali recommends meditation (YS 2.11) and the 8-limbs of yoga (YS 2.28) as a way to end the afflicted or dysfunctional thought patterns (and therefore the words and deeds) which lead to suffering. (Note, this instruction dovetails with the Buddha’s recommendation of meditation and the noble 8-fold path of Buddhism, as well as certain theological practices found in the major religions.) There’s only one problem: For most of us in the West, the practices of yoga and meditation are mired in the muck of bad behavior and the suffering that has been caused by that bad behavior.
“I was far more hurt by the culture of silence and ignoring the victim and victim-blaming than the abuse itself. If there would’ve been support from the community, and it had been dealt with, it would have gone away.”
– Anneke Lucas, founder of Liberation Prison Yoga, quoted in The New Yorker (07/23/2019) about confronting Sri Pattabhi Jois
Almost exactly a year ago, I posted about the foundations and how on Saturdays I place a year-long emphasis on “building the practice from the ground up,” both physically and philosophically. In the post I mentioned B. K. S. Iyengar (b. 12/14/1918) and Sri Pattabhi Jois (who was born today in 1915). Both teachers are part of a small group (of mostly Indian men) who were charged by their teacher Sri Krishnamacharya with introducing the physical practice of yoga to the Western world. Both teachers introduced their personal practice as “the practice” and for many people those practices are how people define “yoga.” Thinking that yoga is a particular set of poses and/or a specific way of doing them is problematic in and of itself. However, there is a bigger problem: both of these teachers have been very credibly accused of bad behavior. And, they are not alone. There are a number of yoga (and Buddhist) teachers (male and female) who have been called out for bad behavior. (Note: I am not using the term “bad behavior” in an attempt to belay or undermine the heinous of what people have allegedly done. Instead, I am using the term as an umbrella to cover sexual misconduct, physical and psychological abuse, and financial misconduct.)
A few days after I posted, a friend and fellow yogi sent me an email, with a link to an article about Jois, and expressed concern about the allegations and “about the current Ashtanga community’s response (or lack thereof) to his abuses.” In conclusion, this friend acknowledged their own conflict about allegations related to their own practices and asked about my thoughts. I started to reply, but then didn’t finish or send the reply (because, well…life). So, with apologies to my friend and fellow yogi, here is part of my response:
Hi! How are you?
Thank you for your email (and the link). I had only heard a portion of this, and it was quite a while back – so, obviously, a lot more has come up. I appreciate the information. Interestingly enough, a friend who is also an Iyengar teacher is in town and when we were catching up she posed a similar question about the value of the teachings when the teacher (and their actions) are so clearly heinous. I ask myself this question a lot, because (unfortunately) there’s so much bad behavior.
Honestly, I’m not sure I have a good answer. In regards to individuals and their bad behaviors, this is something I have also seen in the performing arts (and obviously in Corporate America and religious organizations), and it is why I think it is so important to maintain awareness and connection to the ethical components of these practices – not as a way to condemn or ostracize others, but as a way to have checks and balances into our own practices and behaviors. Ultimately, there is a power element to the practice of yoga and a power imbalance in the (formal) teacher-student(s) relationship. It is up to the (formal) teacher to maintain awareness of this power and power imbalance in order to protect themselves AND the student(s).
I am not part of a formal tradition and have not had any direct contact with guru-predators. And I’ve never had a big-G Guru, which is itself a can of worms. That said; if I hear of someone doing something questionable I will steer people away. (Even though, in my case, I am only going by hearsay and have to step carefully.) Also, when people ask me about teacher trainings I always stress checking out the teacher/studio/situation to make sure that their comfortable with the instructors. I also stress that during teacher trainings (or intensives) people are sometimes asked to do things they may not feel comfortable doing and that it is important to feel secure in knowing when you are uncomfortable because you are outside your comfort zone (i.e., being asked to do something you haven’t ever done before) versus feeling uncomfortable because someone is doing something or asking you to do something that is just plain wrong.
Like Jubilee Cook, I often wonder why – even when people didn’t/don’t feel like they had/have the power to bring a predator down – they don’t understand that they have the power to stop others from being abused! I mean, I do get it on a certain level…and I say this not as a way to blame the victims, but to highlight an additional challenge.
Part of that additional challenge (or maybe it’s a separate challenge) is that people in formal traditions (led by big-G Gurus) experience a combination of hero worship and brain washing that can itself be a kind of trauma. In the recent past, it has taken people a bit of time to “deprogram.” My hope is that the delay in Ashtangis speaking up comes from needing to “deprogram.” Or maybe that’s my naiveté, because honestly, as more comes out, more shame and blame comes up – and people tend to want to curl up and ignore it. Especially, if/when you can pretend that sense certain people are dead the abuse has ended.
With regard to actual teachings…I found there is amazing value in the practice of yoga (on so many different levels)
That’s where I stopped. And, to a certain degree, that is where I am still stuck; because I can’t go back and learn all the valuable things about yoga through a less fractured lens. Maybe “stuck” isn’t the right word, but the bottom line is that this is an issue I confront on a fairly regular basis – not because I’ve personally encountered so much of this bad behavior, but because I can’t go back and pretend like bad behavior didn’t happen. I want people to be informed, but I don’t not always feel it is appropriate to bring certain things up in the middle of a yoga practice. Yes, yes, I do sometimes bring up a lot of controversial and horrific things that have happened in history. I also wrestle with the decision to do so.
Sometimes, I become aware of someone’s bad behavior and I change the way I teach certain things – or leave something/someone out completely, if I know of another way to make the point. Sometimes, I pivot because I’m aware of the history (or age) of someone in the room. I also, sometimes, make a misstep; I am human after all. However, I teach certain things (like religion, philosophy, science, and history) as if they were part of a history lesson or a survey course. I do this out of respect for the subject/theme and also because I think knowledge is power. And with that power…
I am not a big fan of William J. Broad’s very well researched and very well written book The Science of Yoga: The Risks and Rewards. Broad is very upfront about the fact that his book is about the physical practice – but that’s one of my big complaints about the book! By separating the physical practice from the larger context, the book does the exact same thing so many people do: it removes the ethics. Yet what Broad’s research reinforces, to me, is that one of the “rewards” of the postural practice (the increase in physical health and power) becomes a risk if some kind of ethical component is not affixed to the practice.
Let us not forget, Patanjali gave us the ethical component when he codified the system – and he didn’t give it to us as an afterthought. He gave it us first (just as the Buddha did). Most yoga teachers, and all teachers of Buddhism or the major religions, are aware of the ethics of their particular system. If they are not teaching those elements, they may not be practicing them. If they are not practicing the ethics of their system, in all aspects of their life, we end up with more suffering.
Please join me for a 65-minute “short form” virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Sunday, July 26th) at 2:30 PM, when you can practice your ethics. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. PLEASE NOTE: Zoom 5.0 is in effect. If you have not upgraded, you will need to give yourself extra time to log into Zoom. You can always request an audio recording of this practice (or any practice) via email or a comment below.
Today’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. (This is the playlist dated 04192020. It is actually two playlists and you can decide which one you use.)
My apologies, again, to my friend and fellow yogi, for the delay. I also apologize to all for any missteps I’ve made along the way. If you would like to know more about the history of the practices mentioned above, here is a Kiss My Asana blog post from 2016. I started to excerpt it, but trust you won’t think unkindly about the amazing yogi in the profile just because he shares a gender with people who have harmed others.
### “HOW YOU DO YOGA, IS HOW YOU DO LIFE” ###
If only it was Taco Tuesday… July 22, 2020
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Art, Books, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Confessions, Food, Healing Stories, Health, Hope, Life, Music, Pain, Philosophy, Suffering, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: Alex Guarnaschelli, Alex Trebek, asana, Bryan Kest, chalupa, David Chang, Duchess of Sussex, Edward Hopper, Emma Lazarus, Jitterbug Perfume, Meghan Markle, Seane Corn, taco, the perfect taco, Tom Robbins, tostado, yoga philosophy, yoga practice
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“I like it when a man puts thought into the kind of restaurant we’re going to. That doesn’t mean it needs to be fancy – some of the best meals of my life have been having a taco on a street corner.”
– Meghan Markle (now, Duchess of Sussex) quoted in an Esquire Magazine article dated Dec. 15, 2016
“I like to take a day off and enjoy fast food for what it is. I have to say that in New York I’m really partial about taco trucks. I mean I really can’t handle it. There is something about catching all those ingredients piled on top of each other it puts me in a tizzy. I love it. I’m kind of a taco truck junkie.”
– Alex Guarnaschelli (when asked if she eats fast food, TooFab 03/01/2011)
Imagine the perfect taco. “‘What is “The perfect taco?” Alex.’” What makes it perfect? Is it the outside? I mean, I know people who will throw down over hard shells versus soft. (And, just for the record, there’s no such thing as an “open-faced taco” – that’s a chalupa or a tostado, for goodness sake!)
So, maybe, what makes your perfect taco is what’s on the inside. Hmmm… given that everyone has different tastes, different needs, and desires, it seems that there could be a different taco for every person in the world (and two tacos per person on Tuesdays). The poet Emma Lazarus was born today in 1849, so think about what “all your huddled masses” have been seeking over the years. I once heard Bryan Kest say that there’s at least one version of a pose for every person in the world; he estimated 8 billion ways to do every pose. And, it turns out that practicing yoga is a lot like searching for “the perfect taco.”
“Never underestimate how much assistance, how much satisfaction, how much comfort, how much soul and transcendence there might be in a well-made taco and a cold bottle of beer.”
– quoted from Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins
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.
Robbins returned to school and also put his journalism degree to good use, while (occasionally) hitchhiking, researching a book on Jackson Pollack, and (eventually) hosting a weekly alternative radio show for KRAB-FM, Seattle. All the while, Tom Robbins was writing – searching for his perfect writing style, his voice. He found it and used it to write Another Roadside Attraction, a novel that you could theoretically say is “just” about a kind of wacky couple who open a hot dog stand. His first novel had all the elements you will find in most of his novels: wacky, bohemian characters; strong-willed women; animals; religion; existential philosophical musings; science; food (always food); and the occasional mythical character.
Jitterbug Perfume definitely has all of the elements described above and, to me, it is one the most visceral novels by Robbins. They say a picture is worth a thousand words and yet, when I look at “Nighthawks” by Edward Hopper (who was born today in 1882), I may feel a lot, but I smell very little. On the flip side, I can’t even think about Jitterbug Perfume without smelling it. I know, I know, you’re thinking well, of course, the word “perfume” is in the title and it’s all about perfumers trying to capture this magical essence. That’s the way the brain works.
Yeah, no. When I think of this particular novel, I’m thinking about another element that shows up in all of Tom Robbins’s work: s-e-x. And Pan.
“The word desire suggests that there is something we do not have. If we have everything already, then there can be no desire, for there is nothing left to want. I think that what the Buddha may have been trying to tell us is that we have it all, each of us, all the time; therefore, desire is simply unnecessary.”
– quoted from Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins
As we’ve discussed before, suffering is a part of the human condition. We can say, as the Buddhist and Yoga philosophies instruct us, that suffering comes from attachment; however, what we are really saying is that suffering comes from desires. There are lots of different kind of desire, and they can lead to all different kinds of attachment (rooted in pleasure or rooted in pain); but Robbins suggests in Jitterbug Perfume that the desire itself isn’t the problem. Robbins suggests that maybe we suffer because “we do not desire wisely.” It’s an interesting thought – especially if you consider that we are psychologically and physiologically wired to desire, to want certain things and to not want other things.
Considering that there may be a better way to desire, makes me think of certain Buddhist and/or Yoga practices. For instance, shoshin is the Zen Buddhist practice of “beginners mind” and I often liken it to the niyama (internal observation in Yoga) santosha, which is the practice of contentment. Just as Robbins says (above) the practice focuses not on the idea that we are missing out on something but focuses instead on the fact that in this moment there is something, something extraordinary, something… perfect. In Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind, Shunryu Suzuki explains that “in the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, in the experts mind there are few.” When we show up and practice shoshin and/or santosha we open ourselves up to find something perfect in the moment, be it the perfect scent, the perfect quantum physics equation, the perfect taco… or the perfect pose.
“If you lack the iron and the fuzz to take control of your own life, if you insist on leaving your fate to the gods, then the gods will repay your weakness by having a grin or two at your expense. Should you fail to pilot your own ship, don’t be surprised at what inappropriate port you find yourself docked. The dull and prosaic will be granted adventures that will dice their central nervous systems like an onion, romantic dreamers will end up in the rope yard. You may protest that it is too much to ask of an uneducated fifteen-year-old girl that she defy her family, her society, her weighty cultural and religious heritage in order to pursue a dream that she doesn’t really understand. Of course it is asking too much. The price of self-destiny is never cheap, and in certain situations it is unthinkable. But to achieve the marvelous, it is precisely the unthinkable that must be thought.”
– quoted from Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins
Go back to the questions at the beginning of this post and think about them in terms of the “perfect” yoga pose. Even better, think about your pursuit of the perfect expression. Do you think about the inside first, or is your primary focus on the outside? Do you recognize that there are hundreds of thousands of elements, which translate into millions and billions of expressions? Do you recognize that there is no one way to do something and so, therefore, there can be billions of perfect poses? There is, however, an even more important question (inspired by one of my yoga teachers). Seane Corn said, “It’s not about the pose. It’s about the purpose. Be In Yours.” So, the better question as you seek your so-called perfect pose, is “What’s the purpose?”
When we get around to asking that question, we find that sometimes the perfect pose isn’t a taco at all… It’s a chalupa (or a tostado).
“When we accept small wonders, we qualify ourselves to imagine great wonders.”
– quoted from Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins
As a former meteorologist, Tom Robbins would be familiar with chaos theory (the idea that small changes in initial conditions can translate into big outcomes) and it’s those little things that make a difference, unexpected differences, in his stories. Those little changes can also make a difference in your yoga practice…and in your meal preparation.
In the TV show Ugly Delicious, David Chang says, “The dishes that we’re making… it’s about telling a story.” The practicing yoga is also about telling stories, it’s about your body and mind telling your story. It’s about finding your voice, your themes your ingredients, as Tom Robbins has done all his life, and then putting it out there. It is, also, about listening – really, truly, deeply listening to your own heart, your own soul, and your own story. If you really listen, you can also hear the stories around you. And, it is delicious (even when it smells a little ripe).
“He was becoming unstuck, he was sure of that – his bones were no longer wrapped in flesh but in clouds of dust, in hummingbirds, dragonflies, and luminous moths – but so perfect was his equilibrium that he felt no fear. He was vast, he was many, he was dynamic, he was eternal.”
– quoted from Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins
Please join me today (Wednesday, July 22nd) at 4:30 PM or 7:15 PM for a yoga practice on Zoom, where you can “breathe properly, stay curious, and [afterwards] eat your beets.” Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You will need to register for the 7:15 PM class if you have not already done so. Give yourself extra time to log in if you have not upgraded to Zoom 5.0. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below.
Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.
In case you were confused or missed it (above), only one of the Alex’s mentioned above is celebrating an 80th birthday today!
ERRATA: Original post contained type-o related to Edward Hopper.
### WHAT’S YOUR PERFECT TACO? ###
A Strenuous, Deliberate Life Photo July 12, 2020
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Art, Books, Changing Perspectives, First Nations, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Loss, One Hoop, Pain, Philosophy, 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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“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.”
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– quoted from “Overture” in Swann’s Way, Volume 1 of Remembrance of Things Past (or In Search of Lost Time) by Marcel Proust
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“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.”
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– quoted from The Captive, Volume 5 of Remembrance of Things Past (or In Search of Lost Time) by Marcel Proust
It’s human to look back over your 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. It’s a good reflection meditation, which can help us be more productive and (sometimes) can help us to sleep better by literally putting to bed unresolved issues that might have otherwise kept us awake. Sometimes, however, memories just kind of pop up.
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, memories (and reflection) are things that happen to humans and things we humans do. The question is, how do you make remembering useful? How do you show up, in the present, when your mind transports you into the past? How do you remember with the intention of Thoreau and the eye of Eastman?
“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.”
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– quoted from “Where I Lived, and What I Lived For” in Walden, or Life in the Woods by Henry David Thoreau
Born today in 1817, in Concord Massachusetts, Henry David Thoreau was a teacher and a writer, who is remembered as a writer and naturalist. Thoreau self-published his first book, A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers on May 30, 1849. It was the story of a trip he took with his brother John over 10 years before. 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. 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. 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, as a teacher to the Emerson children, and (along with Edward Hoar) would accidentally burn 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 1.5 miles from Emerson House. Henry David Thoreau would live in the cabin, on the banks of Walden Pond, for two years, two months, and two days. He would spend that time writing the memorial to his brother and the work most people associate with the name Thoreau: a collection of essays entitled Walden, or Life in the Woods.
“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.”
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– quoted from “Where I Lived, and What I Lived For” in Walden, or Life in the Woods by Henry David Thoreau
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“What we do during our working hours determines what we have; what we do in our leisure hours determines what we are.”
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– George Eastman
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, but their father – a successful entrepreneur himself – died of a brain disorder when Eastman was almost 8 years old. By then, living in Rochester, NY, the Eastman family’s 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 and (soon after) George left school and started a photography business. By the time he was 30 years old, George Eastman had patented the first practical “roll of film” and before the age of 35 he had developed the Kodak Black camera, designed to use roll film. George Eastman’s company would become the first, and the leading company, to supply film stock and he incorporated what would become a billion dollar company (with a made up name).
Henry David Thoreau was a transcendentalist and an abolitionist who read the Bhagavad Gītā and believed in civil disobedience. He 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 – and possibly helped others escape tax liens. 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 Thoreau’s philosophy and viewpoints regarding “unjust laws” (like the Fugitive Slave Law, which he frequently attacked in lectures), would influence 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.
“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
As a philanthropist, Eastman 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. Eastman also 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 for a 65-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Sunday, July 12th) at 2:30 PM. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. PLEASE NOTE: Zoom 5.0 is in effect. If you have not upgraded, you will need to give yourself extra time to log into Zoom. You can always request an audio recording of this practice (or any practice) via email or a comment below.
Today’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.
If you’re interested in another look at how things “develop,” check out my related 2021 post.
### YS: 1.36 VIŚOKĀ VĀ JYOTIŞMATĪ ###
The best thing since… July 7, 2020
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Art, Faith, Food, Health, Life, Love, Music, Religion, Science, 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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“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.
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. He 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.
In addition to being World Chocolate Day and (what I’ll call) “the best day since sliced bread,” today is Ivanа-Kupala in the Ukraine, Poland, Belarus and Russia. It is a Slavic summer holiday that combines the pagan celebration and fertility rituals of Kupala 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). One of the elemental aspects of the celebrations focuses on the combination of fire and water.
Please join me today (Tuesday, July 7th) at 12 Noon or 7:15 PM for a virtual 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. Give yourself extra time to log in if you have not upgraded to Zoom 5.0. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below.
Tuesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. (This is the playlist dated 06/24/2020. If you have a free Spotify account, you may hear extra music that is not part of the original playlist.)
It’s Blackout Tuesday so consider buying chocolate from here today!
Revised 07/07/2023.
### C7H8N4O2 ###
LIFT YOUR LIGHT, LET YOUR POWER SHINE! June 17, 2020
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Art, Changing Perspectives, Faith, Gratitude, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Love, Music, One Hoop, Pain, Peace, Philosophy, Suffering, Tragedy, Wisdom, Yoga.Tags: "The New Colossus", Abraham Lincoln, Antoinette Sithole, Bramaviharas, Caroline Myss, Emma Lazarus, Frédéric-Auguste Bartholdi, Gustave Eiffel, Hectore Pieterson, Imam Khalid Latif, Joseph Pulitzer, Ma'makhubu, Mbuyisa Makhubo, Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, sankhya, siddhis, Statue of Liberty, yoga philosophy, Yoga Sutra 2.24, yoga sutras
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FRIEND [Old English, with Germanic origin; related to Dutch and German words “to love,” also related to “free”] 1. One who is attached to another by affection; one who entertains for another sentiments of esteem, respect and affection, which lead him to desire his company, and to seek to promote his happiness and prosperity; opposed to foe or enemy.
“FRIEND’SHIP, noun frend’ship. 1. An attachment to a person, proceeding from intimate acquaintance, and a reciprocation of kind offices, or from a favorable opinion of the amiable and respectable qualities of his mind. friendship differs from benevolence, which is good will to mankind in general, and from that love which springs from animal appetite. True friendship is a noble and virtuous attachment, springing from a pure source, a respect for worth or amiable qualities. False friendship may subsist between bad men, as between thieves and pirates. This is a temporary attachment springing from interest, and may change in a moment to enmity and rancor.”
– partially excerpted from Webster’s Dictionary 1828
“Physically speaking, we can not separate. We can not remove our respective sections from each other nor build an impassable wall between them. A husband and wife may be divorced and go out of the presence and beyond the reach of each other, but the different parts of our country can not do this. They can not but remain face to face, and intercourse, either amicable or hostile, must continue between them. Is it possible, then, to make that intercourse more advantageous or more satisfactory after separation than before? Can aliens make treaties easier than friends can make laws? “
– quoted from President Abraham Lincoln’s first inaugural address (March 4, 1861)
Let’s talk about cultivating friendships and tokens of friendship. For the last few days, I have focused on the siddhis (“powers” or “accomplishments”) we all have and, in particular, those powers or abilities which are considered by Indian philosophy to be “unique to humans.” You can read what I’ve already posted here, here, and here. Now, however, I’m going to hone in a little more on how we use those “supernormal” powers and how we express or manifest those powers.
Whenever I talk about the symbolic and energetic aspects of the chakra system, I tie each chakra to the preceding chakras in order to highlight the connection between biography and biology. Hence, when I talk about making relationships “outside of our first family, tribe, or community of birth,” I mention that how and/or if we make friends with people we (and the world) perceive as being different from us is partially determined by where we come from – our first family. (Remember, as always, that just as we are genetically connected to people we have never met and will never meet, we are energetically connected to people we have never met and will never meet.)
“Sacred Truth: Honor one another. Every relationship you develop, from casual to intimate, helps you become more conscious. No union is without spiritual value.”
– quoted from “Morning Visual Meditation” by Caroline Myss
Geography, general proximity, definitely plays a part. Even with the internet “bringing” people closer together – and despite the pandemic enforced social distancing – our strongest bonds tend to be with people in close physical proximity with us. We meet people in the middle of their stories, and we get to know them backwards and forwards (literally and metaphorically) by spending time together. The more time we spend with someone the more vulnerable we are together and the more we know each other’s hearts. The stronger the bond, the tighter it holds when friends are not physically together.
Another thing that plays a part in cultivating friendships is a common thread. We may share a common ideology, based on a correct or incorrect understanding of the world – an understanding that we started learning as a child (see first family). More often than not, however, the common thread is something we like or dislike. Whether it is a shared love of tortillas, yoga, movies, music, books, sports in general, and/or a specific sport, musician, or author, people form bonds around an attachment that is rooted in pleasure. Conversely, we can also form really strong bonds around something we don’t like, an aversion or attachment rooted in pain. And, yes, if you are following along, I’m using the same descriptions that are used to explain two of the three afflicted or dysfunctional thought patterns. But, before we get to that, there’s another way we bond: We bond over a shared experience.
“All people who died on that day, to me, it is like they did not die in vain. As people we managed to take out good things from bad things, to live by today, to shape ourselves and our country.”
– Antoinette Sithole talking about the Soweto student Uprising (06/17/1976) and the unknown “gentleman” (Mbuyisa Makhubo) and woman who helped her after her 12-year old brother Hector Pieterson was killed
“Mbuyisa is or was my son. But he is not a hero. In my culture, picking up Hector is not an act of heroism. It was his job as a brother. If he left him on the ground and somebody saw him jumping over Hector, he would never be able to live there.”
– quoted from Mbuyisa Makhubo’s mother Ma’makhubu explaining why her son picked up a stranger during the Soweto student Uprising (06/17/1976)
Sometimes we bond over a beautiful experience. However, more often than not, really strong relationships form over a shared experience involving a very tragic or traumatic experience. Think of people that came together, and stayed together, after 9/11 or any number of mass shootings. Yesterday, at the end of class, I mentioned that it was “Youth Day” in Soweto, South Africa, a commemoration of the anti-apartheid student uprising that occurred on June 16, 1976. It was a horrible day that brought people together – just as so many horrible events are bringing people in the United States, and around the world, together today. And that’s the other thing: people can become friends because they went through similar experiences – like a terrorist attack, a natural disaster, or a war – even when they didn’t go through the experiences together.
If you look back, you will note that all of the ways I mentioned about friendship involve at least one of the five afflicted or dysfunctional thought patterns; thought patterns that create suffering – and all of those afflicted thought patterns are born out of ignorance. That is not to say that friendship is ignorant. In fact, it is easy to argue that friendship, community, and belonging are wise. There is a definite reason why the Buddha described sangha (“community”) as one of the three jewels. But, when we look at how we become friends with someone it is almost always based on the outside. How we stay friends, however, is based on the inside.
Granted, sometimes we stay friends with someone, because of that final afflicted thought pattern: fear of loss or death. We can all look in our circle of friends and find people we have known for some extended period of time. We may even still spend time with them. However, if we’re being honest, we don’t spend a lot of time with these people. We don’t call them – or even have a strong desire – to call them when we are struggling. They are not our go-to people in troubling times. If they reach out to us, we may wrap up the conversation quickly. These are the people that make us think, “Wait, why am I still friends with this person?” These are the people you have recently “unfriended” if you are on social media. Be honest: You’re still “friends” with some people simply because you’ve known them since preschool, grade school, high school, college, or your first job. While seem interacting with some friends may leave you feeling lighter and brighter, interactions with this latter group of friends leaves you feeling a little dull, disempowered.
“Because of these powers we are able to comprehend the invisible forces of nature and harness them to improve the quality of life. With the decline of our inner luminosity, we lose these powers to a significant degree.”
– quoted from the commentary on Yoga Sūtra 2.24 (as it relates to “dana”) from The Practice of the Yoga Sutra: Sadhana Pada by Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, PhD
I have mentioned this week, that the first three “powers unique to humans” are mental abilities that are directly related to the final three. These final three are the ability to eliminate three-fold sorrow (which requires being able to identify the cause of these sorrows), the ability to cultivate “a good heart; finding friends,” and dana (“generosity” or the ability to give). I have described the last three as “heart powers,” but really and truly all six are heart powers – as they are related to discernment, the interior movements of the heart. When we look at our friendships though this lens, we can definitely see the power of our hearts. We can also see times when, and the ways in which, we are disempowered by ignorance. Society will definitely allow, even condone, a rural Republican, white man in law enforcement (who grills over 50 types of burgers on the side) to not be friends with a liberal black, vegetarian woman from a big city in the South. But, thanks in part to geography, a friendship formed – and I, for one, am richer and more powerful for it. What initially connects people is on the outside, and that may also be what inevitable separates people. What keeps people connected, however, is on the inside.
“There are many of selfish people in this world. People who think first of themselves. Don’t be like them. Don’t give in to the tyranny of your ego and self. Don’t be hateful, don’t be racist, don’t be ignorant or foolish. Learn to appreciate diversity by actually experiencing it and not just talking about it or watching it on TV or in a movie. Talk to and build a relationship with someone that the world would fully let you get away with not interacting with, simply because it’s the right thing to do and you understand that it will benefit you. It’s harder to stereotype when you actually learn someone’s name.”
– Imam Khalid Latif in a 2013 “Ramadān Reflection” for Huffington Post
What is on the inside is something that can only be felt. It doesn’t always have an external reference point. Yes, we can see an expression of love, a token of friendship, and understand it from our own experiences. However, when we see a parent and a child hugging, or even two children hugging, we don’t exactly know what they are feeling. We can only know how we have felt in similar circumstances. We can use those first three “powers unique to humans” (“intuitive knowledge,” words/meanings, and the ability to “study, analyze, and comprehend”) in order to have an emotional, embodied experience. So, we feel the love. And, when we feel the love, we may eliminate some sorrow of our own; cultivate friendship; and/or “have both the wisdom and the courage to share what lawfully belongs to us with others.”
“Our power of discernment and intuitive wisdom enables us to distinguish good thoughts and feelings from bad ones, and cultivate the good ones further to enrich the virtues of our heart. The same capacity enables us to see beyond the boundaries of our little world and share our goodness with others. This capacity also motivates us to pass our achievements on to future generations.”
– quoted from the commentary on Yoga Sūtra 2.24 (as it relates to “finding friends”) from The Practice of the Yoga Sutra: Sadhana Pada by Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, PhD
Today in 1885, the Statue of Liberty arrived in New York Harbor. It was a token of friendship from France and the sculptor Frédéric-Auguste Bartholdi. Bartholdi wanted to commemorate the anniversary of the American Revolution and also acknowledge its connection to the French Revolution. He felt kinship between the nations because of how each populace had overthrown royal sovereignty and oppression. He wanted also to honor the concepts of liberty, freedom, and equality smashing the chains of slavery. Initially inspired by the image of an Arab peasant woman and his own mother, he called the statue “Liberty Enlightening the World” and felt the words and symbols of the statue would do just that – enlighten the world.
The 450,000-pound copper-colored statue arrived in 350 individual pieces shipped in over 200 cases. This included the iron scaffolding created by Gustave Eiffel, who would later create the Eiffel Tower. Lady Liberty would be reassembled and dedicated the following year; but, there was a moment where this symbol of freedom and democracy seemed destined to collect dust like a puzzle someone decided not to put together. The project ran out of money. Who knows what would have happened if not for the general populace in both countries. The statue cost France an estimated $250,000 (about $5.5 million today). The United States was responsible for funding and building the pedestal, another $250,000 – $300,000. Fundraising efforts on both sides of the Atlantic included auctions, a lottery, and boxing matches. Publisher Joseph Pulitzer started a drive that attracted over 120,000 contributors. Remember, this was long before the internet and social media. Some people could only donate a dollar, but most donated less than that.
Emma Lazarus, an author and Jewish activist, wrote the sonnet “The New Colossus” in 1883 and auctioned it off during one of the fundraising efforts featuring original art and manuscripts. Lines from the poem would eventually be inscribed on the pedestal, but Lazarus initial declined the opportunity to participate in the auction. She said she couldn’t write a poem about a statue. In fact, what she eventually wrote was a gift of empathetic friendship for Jewish refugees. Part of her philanthropic efforts in the world included helping refugees who had fled anti-Semetic pogroms in Europe and Lazarus saw the refugees living in conditions that were outside of her privileged experience. Lazurus used her first three powers to supercharge her final three powers and, in doing so, she empowered the heart encased in Bartholdi’s statue and generations of hearts who have since read her words.
“‘Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!’ cries she
With silent lips. ‘Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!’”
– from the poem “The New Colossus” by Emma Lazarus
Please join me today (Wednesday, June 17th) at 4:30 PM or 7:15 PM for a practice where we will empower the extensions of our hearts. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You will need to register for the 7:15 PM class if you have not already done so. Give yourself extra time to log in if you have not upgraded to Zoom 5.0. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below.
Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. (The playlist starts with instrumental music. If your Spotify is on shuffle, you will want your music volume low at the beginning of the practice.)
### MO’ METTĀ, LESS BLUES ###
Here Be The Wild Things June 10, 2020
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Art, Books, Changing Perspectives, Faith, Healing Stories, Life, Music, Pain, Philosophy, Religion, Suffering, Vairagya, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: addiction, Alcoholics Anonymous, Anne Smith, asana, Bill Wilson, disability, Dr. Bob Smith, Eugene Glenn, G. Alan Marlatt, Holocaust, In the Night Kitchen, Loss, Maurice Sendak, Mindfulness, Outside Over There, psychiatry, psychoanalysis, recovery, Richard Gottlieb, Stanton Peele, survivors, trauma, Where The Wild Things Are, yoga practice
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“And so we have…this critical problem as human beings of seeing to it that the mythology—the constellation of sign signals, affect images, energy-releasing and -directing signs—that we are communicating to our young will deliver directive messages qualified to relate them richly and vitally to the environment that is to be theirs for life, and not to some period of man already past, some piously desiderated future, or—what is worst of all—some querulous, freakish sect or momentary fad. And I call this problem critical because, when it is badly resolved, the result for the miseducated individual is what is known, in mythological terms, as a Waste Land situation. The world does not talk to him; he does not talk to the world. When that is the case, there is a cut-off, the individual is thrown back on himself, and he is in prime shape for that psychotic break-away that will turn him into either an essential schizophrenic in a padded cell, or a paranoid screaming slogans at large, in a bughouse without walls.”
– from A Joseph Campbell Companion: Reflections on the Art of Living by Joseph Campbell
How do we keep from becoming, to paraphrase Joseph Campbell, a screaming paranoid person? How do we face trauma, loss, and disability with a smile on our face, as Wayman Tisdale did? Maybe we have to go all the way back to the womb to figure out why some people survive the challenging circumstances they face in life. Maybe we have to go back even farther than that to see why some people just inherently know how to stay connected to their “inside stuff” even when life throws them one curve ball after another fast ball. Whatever the reason some people rebound and some people don’t (or don’t as easily as others), trying to figure out that reason has fascinated people since the beginning of time.
Children’s book author and illustrator Maurice Sendak, born today in 1928, in Brooklyn, New York, once said, “I only have one subject. The question I am obsessed with is: How do children survive?” Like the poets mentioned during Sunday’s class (06/07/2020), Sendak wrote about what he saw – and what he saw was a family decimated by the Holocaust and trying to acclimate to a new country and a new culture. He saw kids being kids, being alive and full of so much life despite the overwhelming and pervasive feeling of perpetual mourning. The adults called the unruly children “vilde chaya,” which is Yiddish for “wild animal.” Sendak turned it into “wild things” and wrote a children’s book that become the center of a trilogy about (you guessed it) how children survive and thrive.
“I grew up in a house that was in a constant state of mourning.”
– Maurice Sendak in a 2002 interview with children’s book historian Leonard Marcus
“’And now,’ cried Max, ‘let the wild rumpus start!’”
– from Where The Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak
Where The Wild Things Are, published in 1963, tells the story of preschool-age Max who, as adults would have said during my childhood, gets a little too big for his britches. He is sent to his room without his dinner because he can’t behave and, as children do, he lets his imagination take over. His bedroom becomes a magical land full of wild animals, beasts, monsters….
My amazing friend Julie K just sent me a recent essay in The New Yorker about metaphorical monsters. I found it problematic because the identity of the monsters is too vague. Sendak, however, was always very clear; the monsters in his first book were the perpetually mourning and stern adults in his family. He just exaggerated them into something endearingly grotesque. As Max manages his emotions, becoming “king of all wild things” (a. k. a. the “most wild thing of all”), he finds his way back to the regular world. Managing one’s emotions, it turns out, is the secret to making one’s way back to the regular world.
“Your sacred space is where you can find yourself again and again. You really don’t have a sacred space, a rescue land, until you find somewhere to be that’s not a wasteland, some field of action where there is a spring of ambrosia—a joy that comes from inside, not something external that puts joy into you—a place that lets you experience your own will and your own intention and your own wish so that, in small, the Kingdom is there. I think everybody, whether they know it or not, is in need of such a place.”
– from A Joseph Campbell Companion: Reflections on the Art of Living by Joseph Campbell
“There should be a place where only the things you want to happen, happen.”
– from Where The Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak
As I mentioned before, Where The Wild Things Are was the first of a three-part series to be published, but it is actually the centerpiece to the trilogy. In The Night Kitchen (published in 1970) follows toddler-age Mickey as he falls, naked, into the Night Kitchen, where he has to avoid getting baked into the cake batter and eaten up. Max, again, is preschool-age. Outside Over There (published in 1981) features pre-adolescent Ida, who shirks her responsibility and then has to face the consequences of making things right. It is interesting to note that while there is always a symbol of a mother and evidence of a mother’s love in all three books, Ida is the only real-live human girl featured prominently in the books and she is given (in the book) the mother’s role of caregiver – a role she initially fails to take seriously.
“When Papa was away at sea and Mama in the arbor, Ida played her wonder horn to rock the baby still – but never watched.”
– from Outside Over There by Maurice Sendak
Maurice Sendak’s trilogy is recognized as a series which traces the psychological development of children. Each protagonist has age appropriate responsibilities, feelings, thoughts, and emotions. Each protagonist also has to navigate and find balance between the (age appropriate) expectations of the simultaneously present yet absent parent(s) and their feelings, thoughts, and emotions. One of the emotions that figures prominently, especially in Where The Wild Things Are, is rage and one of the themes that figures prominently in the books is how to manage emotions like rage. Because, as I sated before, managing one’s emotions is the secret to making one’s way back to the regular world. It is the boon, as it were, of this particular hero’s journey/cycle.
“But it is more than mere survival that Sendak aspires to, for his children and for himself. He asks the question of resilience: How do children surmount and transform in order to prosper and create? It is tempting to imagine that Sendak conceives of the trajectory of his own life and art as a model for the way he has handled these questions in his works.”
– from a 2009 The Psychologist article by psychoanalyst Richard Gottlieb
When Where The Wild Things Are was turned into a movie, therapists like Richard Gottlieb offered their clinical take on the book and the movie. Psychoanalyst and attorney Stanton Peele noted in a 2009 article for Psychology Today that Dr. G. Alan Marlatt, a psychologist who focused on addiction, “specifically developed mindfulness as a relapse prevention technique, one that assists addicted people to combat cravings. In brief, a user may imagine the urge to use again as a physical challenge – like a wave – that he or she rides out.” Then, Peele called Sendak’s work “a model of mindfulness.” For his part, Gottlieb did not think it was an accident that Sendaks’ work was so psychologically applicable. In fact, he specifically highlights various “psychological proddings and teachings” which influenced Sendak’s life – including the fact that his partner (for over 50 years) was psychoanalyst Eugene Glenn – and shares bits of conversations with colleagues who also see the value in the book.
“I’m not the milk and the milk’s not me. I’m Mickey!”
– Mickey in In The Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak
Call it a coincidence, a coinkydink, God winking, or serendipity, but it is interesting to note that Maurice Sendak, whose seminal book has been hailed and praised by addiction experts, was born on the anniversary of Dr. Bob Smith’s last drink, which is also the anniversary of Alcoholics Anonymous. Today in 1935, Bill Wilson and Smith’s wife Anne gave a severely hung-over Smith (a. k. a. “Dr. Bob”) a beer so that he would be “steady enough” to go into surgery. Hours beyond when the surgery should have ended, Smith announced that yes, the surgery was successful and that he had spent the remaining time reaching out to creditors and others he had hurt when he was drinking. Founded by Smith and Wilson, with support from Smith’s wife Anne, Alcoholics Anonymous is a 12-step rehabilitation program that has helped some people cope with alcoholism. It is also the model for other 12-step programs. While I have not counted the steps as they apply to Maurice Sendak’s work, there are very definite parallels in the way the main characters acknowledge their problems, turn inward, and offer restitution and express remorse. There are also, in the books and in recovery, humongous amounts of love and forgiveness (in particular, self-love and self-forgiveness).
“Quiet down there!”
– Mickey In The Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak
“If Ida backwards in the rain would only turn around again and catch those goblins with a tune, she’d spoil their kidnap honeymoon!”
– Papa’s song in Outside Over There
Please join me today (Wednesday, June 10th) at 4:30 PM or 7:15 PM for a practice inspired by the inner workings of a child’s heart and mind. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You will need to register for the 7:15 PM class if you have not already done so. Give yourself extra time to log in if you have not upgraded to Zoom 5.0. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below.
Since music soothes the wild beasts, the goblins, and the cooks, Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. (NOTE: YouTube is the original playlist and includes the video below.)
My all time favorite rendition!
A Joyful Practice 