May you be safe and protected / May you be peaceful and happy (and curious about all the ways you can breathe), during the 16 Days of Activism Against Gender-based Violence (November 25th – December 10th) and on all the other days of your life.
“Let us go forth awhile, and get better air in our lungs.”
— Walt Whitman writing about the new game, baseball, in the Brooklyn Eagle (07/23/1846)
Today‘s practice begins with the question at the end of yesterday‘s blog post — “What Helps You Breathe Deeply In and Breathe Deeply Out?” — and it becomes another opportunity to live, breathe, and explore questions about how we breathe and what helps us breathe deeply, every time we inhale and every time we exhale. It is, also, another opportunity to consider the situations when we shallow breathe and/or hold our breath due to situational or chronic stress, trauma, and grief (or even breathtaking beauty); to notice when those little moments become conditioned habits; and to begin playing around with different ways to break bad habits and/or change habitual patterns that no longer serve us. Finally, it is part of the process that allows each of us to more fully engage the vitality of our mind-body and the wisdom of our heart and spirit.
While we can do this together, it is very much an individual practice. Each of us has to acknowledge our own history and sore spots; each of us has to figure out what works for us based on what we have experienced in the past; and each of us has to put on our own (metaphorical) oxygen mask.
For Those Who Missed It: The following is a slightly revised version of a post from Saturday, December 5, 2020. The playlist has been updated with more “air” (so that the timing is the same, but it may feel different). Some embedded links will direct you to another site.
“There are thousands of postures. In order to heal our physical and psychological injuries we must learn to select the postures suitable to our specific needs and arrange them in the proper sequence. Sequencing of asana is crucial because, as with anything else, a change in sequence drastically changes the result. (YS 3:15). Next, we have to practice these properly sequenced postures while staying within the boundaries of our comfort. Then, we must take our practice to the point where we are able to feel and touch the threshold of our discomfort. We refine our practices as we apply the principle of effortless effort described in the previous sutra.”
— commentary on Yoga Sūtra 2.48 from The Practice of the Yoga Sūtra: Sadhana Pada by Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, PhD
All the cues on moving into and activating a pose can be really overwhelming. It can seem constant and continuous… because it is. I often tell beginners not to worry about doing what they don’t understand — or even, to an extent, what doesn’t make sense. Do what you can do, as much as you can do it, for as long as you can do it (to paraphrase a very wise man) and eventually things start falling into place. Literally, the more you practice, the more parts of you start aligning. Yes, it’s true, that you can practice incorrectly — and you can do it for a really long time. It’s also true that when doing something wrong becomes the habit (and the practice) things don’t fall into place… things fall apart. We see that in our mind-bodies and we see it in the world.
Do you ever wonder where all this information came from? Do you every think about that first yogi, Adiyoga, and those first seven students? Initially, no one told anyone how to do anything. The first seven were inspired by seeing someone else do something they thought had value — and then they listened to their own mind-body! The question is always: How can I breathe deeply here? Or, what can I do to breathe more deeply here? And the answer is already inside of us. We just have to “listen,” which in the case of our mind-body requires paying attention to sensation, to how we’re feeling and how we are responding to what’s happening inside of us and all around us. That’s the practice.
“You are so young, so much before all beginning, and I would like to beg you, dear Sir, as well as I can, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don‘t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.”
— quoted from Letter #4 (dated July 16, 1903) addressed to 19-year old officer cadet Franz Xaver Kappus, published in Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke
Being human, we have the ability to play, explore, and experiment; to see what works, when and where it works; and to notice for how long something works. Thus, someone started moving their body into different shapes and then breathing into those different shapes, which had different effects. Then they would move into the shapes in a different way, breathe into that different way, and noticed the different effects. Then they saw other people could do the same and experience similar effects. Then people, like Patanjali and Vyasa, started to codify the practice by writing it down. And this whole process and practice comes back to the breath, the spirit, the life force — and different ways to breathe, engage the spirit, and expand life.
— “Prāṇāyāma, which is expanding the life force by controlling the movement of the inhalation and exhalation, can be practiced after completely mastering [the seat or pose].”
— “The breath may be stopped externally, internally, or checked in mid-motion, and regulated according to place, time and a fixed number of moments, so that the [pause] is either protracted or brief.”
In the commentary for Yoga Sūtra 2.50, Swami Jnaneshvara Bharati is quick to point out that while stambha (“cessation” or “transition”) is often translated into English as retention and therefore equated with kumbhaka (which is retention), there is a subtle difference in the usage here. First, the practice involves awareness of three parts of the breath: inhalation, exhalation, and the transition (or pause) between the first two parts — which is repeated twice. Next, there is the slowing or expansion of the breath (as described in YS. 2.49). Finally, there is awareness and regulation of the breath in different places in the body — even directing it to those places; controlling the time (or length and duration of the breath); and counting (or numbering) each part of the breath.
Breath regulation in place, time, and by numbering can involve the practice of kumbhaka, which is breath retention achieved by holding the breath on the inhalation or exhalation, and/or stambha vŗitti kumbhaka, which is breath retention achieved in the middle of an inhalation or exhalation. Notice that the breath retention highlights transition.
Any breath retention is considered an advanced practice and, just as is instructed with more “basic” types of prāņāyāma, should only be practiced after mastering previous elements. Some teachers advise only practicing kumbhaka after it naturally arises in your practice. This does not mean that you are ready to practice breath retention when you finding yourself holding your breath or shallow breathing because you are overly challenged in a pose or sequence. In fact, it means quite the opposite.
“Patanjali assumes that aspirants who reached this level of yoga sadhana are familiar wth the practice of the seven pranayamas, which together constitute the practice of prana anusandhana. Therefore, these aspirants have built a strong foundation for practicing the three advanced pranayama techniques he is presenting here.”
— commentary on Yoga Sūtra 2.48 from The Practice of the Yoga Sūtra: Sadhana Pada by Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, PhD
The practicing of connecting the breath — and connecting to the breath — is broken down into the following seven steps:
Aharana prāņāyāma – which is “to bring back” and revolves around awareness of the breath and how it feels in the body, as well as positioning the body so there is no shakiness, interruption, or abnormal breathing.
Samikarana prāņāyāma – which is “to equalize,” and involves maintaining an equal calmness in the breathing and in the mind-body. There is also focus on certain areas of the mind-body.
Dirge-prashvasa prāņāyāma – which is “long exhalation,” and involves focus on certain areas of the mind-body.
Nadi shodhana prāņāyāma – which is alternate energy channel or alternate nasal breathing, and involves alternating the exhale and inhale between nostrils.
Anuloma prāņāyāma – which is “to follow the same path,” and involves rapidly inhaling and exhaling through only one nostril.
Viloma prāņāyāma – which is “to follow the reverse path,” and involves exhaling through one nostril and then inhaling through the other.
Pratlioma prāņāyāma – which is “to switch paths back and forth,” and is only practiced after the previous two are mastered.
Note that the last three are practices only intended for people who are healthy and have no underlying conditions. Additionally, please note that these terms are also sometimes used when referring to a specific pattern of breathing related to length and duration of each part of the breath.
Please join me today (Tuesday, December 5th) at 12:00 PM or 7:15 PM for a yoga practice on Zoom. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules”calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email myra(at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Tuesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “10272020 Pranayama II”]
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.)
### To live is to breathe. To breathe with intention is the practice. To live with intention is the goal. ###
May you be safe and protected / May you be peaceful and happy (and curious), during the 16 Days of Activism Against Gender-based Violence (November 25th – December 10th) and on all the other days of your life.
This is just a reflection related to Monday, December 4th. There is no recording for 2023; however, you can request an audio recording of a related practice (as listed below) via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.
“Here, where I am surrounded by an enormous landscape, which the winds move across as they come from the seas, here I feel that there is no one anywhere who can answer for you those questions and feelings which, in their depths, have a life of their own; for even the most articulate people are unable to help, since what words point to is so very delicate, is almost unsayable. But even so, I think that you will not have to remain without a solution if you trust in Things that are like the ones my eyes are now resting upon. If you trust in Nature, in what is simple in Nature, in the small Things that hardly anyone sees and that can so suddenly become huge, immeasurable; if you have this love for what is humble and try very simply, as someone who serves, to win the confidence of what seems poor: then everything will become easier for you, more coherent and somehow more reconciling, not in your conscious mind perhaps, which stays behind, astonished, but in your innermost awareness, awakeness, and knowledge. You are so young, so much before all beginning, and I would like to beg you, dear Sir, as well as I can, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.”
— quoted from Letter #4 (dated July 16, 1903) addressed to 19-year old officer cadet Franz Xaver Kappus, published in Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke
Look back over the years (or check out the links indexed below) and you will see that I often reference and quote Rainer Maria Rilke, who was born today in 1875. I am particularly fond of the aforementioned advice the poet gave the 19-year old officer cadet Franz Xaver Kappus in the fourth letter, dated July 16, 1903. I go back to them again and again, in every season of every year of my life (to paraphrase Walt Whitman); because, I think it is great advice for everyone: “Live the questions….”
Of course, to live the questions requires us to breathe (into) the questions and notice what happens.
“To breathe! Oh poem we cannot see! Pure space exchanged continually For one’s own being. Counterpoise, In which I come to be, a rhythm.”
— quoted from Sonnets to Orpheus, II.1 by Rainer Maria Rilke (translated by Robert Temple)
Just as there is something divine (universal and sacred) about the breath, there is something divine about questions. I am not sure we can be alive and not have questions. Additionally, in the Bahá’í Faith, each month is named after a virtue or attribute of God. One of the months is Masáʼil, which means “questions,” and it begins at sunset exactly a week after Rilke’s birthday. How serendipitous! So, I think this is the perfect time to ask ourselves questions; to live those questions; to breathe those questions; and to change with those questions.
That, as it turns out, is also good advice from Rilke. It is advice we can take on and off the mat.
“Want the change. Be inspired by the flame where everything shines as it disappears. The artist, when sketching, loves nothing so much as the curve of the body as it turns away.
What locks itself in sameness has congealed. Is it safer to be gray and numb? What turns hard becomes rigid and is easily shattered.
Pour yourself like a fountain. Flow into the knowledge that what you are seeking finishes often at the start, and, with ending, begins.
Every happiness is the child of a separation it did not think it could survive. And Daphne, becoming a laurel, dares you to become the wind.”
— quoted from Sonnets to Orpheus, II.12 by Rainer Maria Rilke
If you are interested in previous posts (and practices) related to Rainer Maria Rilke, check out the following:
feel how your breathing makes more space around you. Let this darkness be a bell tower and you the bell. As you ring,
what batters you becomes your strength. Move back and forth into the change. What is it like, such intensity of pain? If the drink is bitter, turn yourself to wine.
In this uncontainable night, be the mystery at the crossroads of your senses, the meaning discovered there.
And if the world has ceased to hear you, say to the silent earth: I flow. To the rushing water, speak: I am”
— quoted from Sonnets to Orpheus, II.29 by Rainer Maria Rilke (translated by Joanna Macy)
### What Helps You Breathe Deeply In and Breathe Deeply Out? ###
May you be safe and protected / May you be peaceful and happy, during the 16 Days of Activism Against Gender-based Violence (November 25th – December 10th) and on all the other days of your life.
This “missing” post for Sunday, December 3rd (2023) includes information related to the 2022 practice on this date and a 2021 excerpt (as well as some information from 2014). You can request an audio recording of a related practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.
“Not everything that is faced can be changed; but nothing can be changed until it is faced.”
— James Baldwin (as quoted from the movie I Am Not Your Negro, directed by Raoul Peck)
Part of what appeals to me about the Yoga Philosophy is that I find it very practical: there are steps and step-by-step progressions. Another thing that has always resonated with me about the Yoga Philosophy is the idea that we all have an inner light and that we can tap into that inner light or (as Patanjali put it in Yoga Sūtra 2.52) uncover the light in a way that removes obstacles. In fact, according to Patanjali’s Yoga Sūtras, focusing on our inner light clears the mind and enables us to utilize the tool of samyama (the combined effort of focus, concentration, and meditation), which leads to all sorts of supernormal abilities. These siddhis (“accomplishments”) or powers include the ability to make oneself invisible (YS 3.21); the ability to see really small things, obstructed things, and things that are far away (YS 3.26); the ability to see those who have reached a higher plane of awareness (YS 3.33); and the ability to know… anything and everything (YS 3.34).
Keep in mind that those are just some of the abilities associated with light!
But, before we go any further into the light, I want to back up a little (as we did in 2022) — in order to better understand what comes next.
Yoga Sūtra 3.19: pratyayasya paracittajñānam
— “By making samyama on the distinguishing marks of another’s body, one obtains knowledge of the nature of the other’s mind.”
Yoga Sūtra 3.20: na ca tatsālambanaṃ tasyāviṣayãbhūtatvāt
— “But not of its contents, because that is not being the object of the samyama.”
Yoga Sūtra 3.35: hṛdaye cittasaṃvit
— “By making samyama on the heart, one gains knowledge of the content of the mind.”
Now, I’m not going to get into the physics, metaphysics, and logistics of the aforementioned supernormal abilities associated with light. Instead, let’s turn our awareness to something we can all do right now: Pay attention to our thoughts, words, and deeds — as well as the thoughts, words, and deeds of others. Because, as I often say, what is in the heart will be in the mind; what is in your mind (your thoughts) will become your words; and your words will precede your actions… which reflect what is in your heart.
Having said all that, again and again, it is really easy to look at what’s happening in the world and see more darkness than light. It’s really easy to think a lot of people are just running around with hearts of darkness — which is a really, super scary thought. However, I don’t completely believe that. Neither do I believe that most people are all sunshine and light. I believe we all have both light and darkness in our hearts.
I also believe that it is important to gaze into the places inside of ourselves where the light becomes the darkness… and the darkness becomes the light. I think that doing so allows us to engage our own light (more than our own darkness) and, also, to better help others engage their own light. Or, at the very least, this practice allows us to better understand why some people seem to consistently engage their shadow selves instead of the brighter parts of themselves.
Of course, we have to do this light (and dark) work mindfully, because…
“146. Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.”
— quoted from “Fourth Chapter. Apophthegms and Interludes” in Beyond Good and Evil: Prelude to a Philosophy of the Future by Friedrich Nietzsche
“I was always looking outside myself for strength and confidence but it comes from within. It is there all the time.”
— Anna Freud, psychoanalyst and teacher
Many people might think of Anna Freud (born December 3, 1895) as living in her father’s shadow. Really, as the youngest of six, some might think that she lived in her whole family’s shadow. It’s possible that being in everyone’s shadow gave her the perspective needed to see possibilities for other children. Either way, she didn’t stay in the shadows for long. She made a name for herself — first as a primary (or elementary) school teacher and then as a psychoanalyst. Her work as a psychoanalyst was slightly different from that of her illustrious father. She focused on the functions and benefits of a healthy ego and was able to parlay her experience in as an educator to become one of the pioneers of child psychology.
In her late twenties, Anna Freud presented a paper to the Vienna Psychoanalytical Society and then became a member. Within a year of joining the society, she was serving as its chairperson and had established her own practice (for children). In 1925, she started teaching her techniques and approach at the Vienna Psychoanalytic Training Institute. In 1927, she published her system. She spent nine years as the Secretary of the Vienna Psychoanalytic Training Institute and then, ten years after she started teaching, she became the institute’s director. A year later, in 1936, she published her groundbreaking study, The Ego and the Mechanisms of Defence, which postulated the ways by which humans protect themselves. Her ideas around these methods — including repression (which she said develop naturally and unconsciously in children); projection (of one’s own feelings onto another); directing aggressive behavior towards one’s self; identification with an overpowering aggressor; and divorcing ideas from feelings — became one of the cornerstones of adolescent psychology.
After the Nazi’s annexed Austria in March of 1938, Anna Freud was interrogated by the Gestapo. Being a Jewish woman and an intellectual, she had good reason to fear the worst and was prepared to protect herself using one of the same methods she had described in her work. She was eventually allowed to return home and, when her father was offered a way out of Vienna, she organized the Freud family’s immigration to London. In England, she not only continued her work, she broadened it. First she focused on the effects of war on children and their development. Later, after she had spent some time traveling and lecturing in the United States, she broadened her horizons and began studying the effects of being emotionally and/or social deprived and/or disadvantaged. She also did some work around how crime affected children’s development and published her collaborations with regard to laws and policies that could help children thrive.
“When she was eighty-five, a depressed young man sent her a lament about the chaotic state of the world, and she sent him a succinct statement of her credo: ‘I agree with you wholeheartedly that things are not as we would like them to be. However, my feeling is that there is only one way to deal with it, namely to try and be all right oneself, and to create around one at least a small circle where matters are arranged as one wants them to be.’”
— quoted from “Preface to the First Edition” of Anna Freud: A Biography (second edition) by Elisabeth Young-Bruehl
Just as was the case during Anna Freud’s lifetime, the world is in a chaotic state and “‘…things are not as we would like them to be.’” While many have created the small circle she suggested, it gets harder and harder as people get more and more isolated, siloed, and marginalized. In some ways, taking her suggestion begins to highlight the edge of the light… which is also the edge of the darkness. It does not, in and of itself, however, spread the light — neither does it prevent the darkness from spreading. For that we have to look at cause and effect.
We can absolutely look back and see how we got here. However, I think it is also important (and necessary) to look at where we are in order to see where we are going — especially when we find ourselves heading into the darkness. Maybe we find ourselves engaging our shadow self and the darkness inside of our own heart and mind, because someone pushes our buttons (and/or physically pushes us) and we feel like we must defend ourselves. Maybe, instead of fear or anger, it is doubt or grief that distracts us from our own light.
Either way, there are a lot of situations (and people) in the world that activate our sympathetic nervous system, compelling us to fight, flee, or freeze/collapse. One of the things of which we must be mindful is when we go from instinctual actions related to survival — including those highlighted by Anna Freud — to actions that are more related to our darkness than our light.
“Darkness. Few things frighten us more. The fear it creates is a constant in our existence: The living darkness of our bedrooms after our parents turn out the lights. The pregnant darkness beyond the glow of the bonfire as we listen to ‘spooky’ stories. The ancient darkness of the forest as we walk past deep shadows between trees. The shivering darkness of our own home when we step inside wondering if we’re alone.
Darkness is a fundamental, existential fear because it contains all the fears that we carry with us in our brains — fears both real and imagined, engendered from living life and from the life lived in stories, from culture, from fairytales.”
— quoted from “Chapter 9. Celebrate Doubt” in Deviate: The Science of Seeing Differently by Beau Lotto
As you consider your light — and what it symbolizes — you must also consider the dark. After all, we don’t really appreciate the light, until we contrast it with the dark. During a 2021 class I shared a little fear I experienced driving my old truck in the city (where there were so many bright lights that I couldn’t see my own headlights) and how that fear was, ironically, alleviated, when I was driving in the country where there were less cars and street lights. It’s a weird scenario, I know; but in the latter case I had a better understanding of my reference points, a better (and more consistent) understanding of where the light ended and the darkness began. You can think of it as a better understanding of the safety of what is known/seen versus the danger of what is unknown/unseen.
This holds true with all the different paradigms: good and evil, life and death, love and hate, knowledge and ignorance, kindness and anger/frustration, hope and despair, wisdom and fear; etc. We appreciate what we have more when there is the possibility of not having it. However, we can’t truly appreciate what we don’t have (or can’t see ourselves having).
Another way to look at this idea is vis-à-vis proprioception. Remember, when the “brain finds the body in space” and realizes it has more room, it stretches out. When the mind-body bumps into an obstacle, it pulls back. Similar to the defense mechanisms described by Anna Freud, when we are faced with the danger that we perceive as failure (or other people’s judgements), we pull back.
When we feel safe, we shine. However, when we only feel safe in a small sphere, our understanding of ourselves and our light (including our potential) changes. So, too, does that narrow frame change our understanding of others (and their light).
“‘Destiny. My destiny! Droll thing life is – that mysterious arrangement of merciless logic for a futile purpose. The most you can hope from it is some knowledge of yourself – that comes too late – a crop of inextinguishable regrets. I have wrestled with death. It is the most unexciting contest you can imagine. It takes place in an impalpable greyness, with nothing underfoot, with nothing around, without spectators, without clamour, without glory, without the great desire of victory, without the great fear of defeat, in a sickly atmosphere of tepid scepticism, without much belief in your own right, and still less in that of your adversary. If such is the form of ultimate wisdom, then life is a greater riddle than some of us think it to be.’”
— the character Charles Marlow speaking of Kurtz’s death in Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad
Born Józef Teodor Konrad Korzeniowski in Berdychiv, Russian Empire (in what is now Ukraine, but was originally part of the Crown of the Kingdom of Poland) in 1857, Joseph Conrad was known as “Konrad” by his Polish family. If you look at his family history, you might think that he was fated (or destined) to be a writer. Given the cultural interactions and socio-political clashes that he experienced growing up, perhaps he was even destined to write the dark plots and twisted characters that are found in his novellas. His dark plots and twisted characters are often the subject of criticism and debate* and sometimes analyzed through a (Sigmund) Freudian lens. Personally, I wonder what Anna Freud might have said about how his experiences informed his topics; but she was only three when the Heart of Darkness was serialized in Blackwood’s Magazine (February, March, and April of 1899) and only five when the last portion of Lord Jim appeared in the same magazine.
When Anna Freud said, “Creative minds have always been known to survive any kind of bad training,”she could have easily been talking about the “Prince of Darkness,” John Michael “Ozzy” Osbourne. Born in December 3, 1948, the lead singer of Black Sabbath has a reading disorder, was abused as a child, dropped out of school at 15, spent some prison (as a young man), and discovered late in life that he was suffering from an undiagnosed central nervous system disorder. He worked at a variety of trades, but was inspired to be a singer at a very young age. Despite (or maybe because of) his childhood trauma, he persevered. But, there was a cost and a toll and a lot of darkness that played out in the music and on the stage. That cost, toll, and darkness have included years of substance abuse, mixed in with periods of sobriety, and criticism about how his music and behavior have (negatively) impacted young people. That criticism has included him being banned from certain cities and several lawsuits related to death and violence that people have attributed to his music.
“People look to me and say Is the end near, when is the final day? What’s the future of mankind? How do I know, I got left behind
Everyone goes through changes Looking to find the truth Don’t look at me for answers Don’t ask me, I don’t know”
— quoted from the song “I Don’t Know” by Ozzy Osbourne
At the end of the day, each of us to focus on our own inner light; figure out how we show up shine in the world; notice the situations that enable us to shine our brightest; and also notices “what’s at the edge of [our] light.” There are a few more questions in this rubric, but consider how the answers start pointing you in certain directions. Notice how the questions and their answers can start opening up your field of possibilities.
Sometimes it may seem like you are wearing a head lamp (or heart lamp) and you’re moving in a way that changes your field of awareness. And that’s fine, that happens — it’s part of life and part of the practice. But, sometimes, we experience a brightening and a widening of our field. Sometimes we find that what we couldn’t imagine was actually just outside our field of vision: It was always there, waiting for us.
Yes, eventually, what is waiting for us all is Death. But, prior to that, there is an opportunity, “one tiny moment in time / For life to shine to shine / Burn away the darkness /”
“An old woman living in a nightmare, an old woman who has fought a thousand battles with death and always won. Now she’s faced with a grim decision—whether or not to open a door. And in some strange and frightening way she knows that this seemingly ordinary door leads to the Twilight Zone.”
“There was an old woman who lived in a room. And, like all of us, was frightened of the dark. But who discovered in a minute last fragment of her life that there was nothing in the dark that wasn’t there when the lights were on. Object lesson for the more frightened amongst us in, or out of, the Twilight Zone.”
— “Opening” and “Closing” narrations, quoted from “Episode 81 (3.16) — ‘Nothing in the Dark’” of The Twilight Zone (premiered January 5, 1962)
Sunday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “12032022 Gazing into the Heart, redux”]
*NOTE: As I mentioned in 2014 (see asterisked link above), Joseph Conrad wrote his short novel after his own experiences in Africa in the late 1800’s and while his own words best describe the world he sees, I think the world he sees is the world in his own heart.
I initially resisted the book and the birthday, in part because literary greats like Chinua Achebe criticize Conrad and his work as racist and xenophobic — and I don’t think there’s any way to get around that. Neither did I want to seem to celebrate a depiction of racism given currents events in Ferguson, Missouri and around the United States in 2014. However, Dr. Peter Mwikisa said Heart of Darkness can be “…the great lost opportunity to depict dialogue between Africa and Europe…” and that made me wonder: Are we, right now, losing an opportunity for dialogue in the U. S.? As I asked in 2014, are we just not ready for dialogue?
Or, is it possible that we have made our circles too small to dialogue?
“‘Did he live his life again in every detail of desire, temptation, and surrender during that supreme moment of complete knowledge? He cried in a whisper at some image, some vision – he cried out twice, a cry that was no more than a breath:
“‘” The horror! The horror!’
“I blew the candle out and left the cabin….”
— the character Charles Marlow describing Kurtz’s death in Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad
May you be safe and protected, during the 16 Days of Activism Against Gender-based Violence (November 25th – December 10th) and on all the other days of your life.
For Those Who Missed It: The following was originally posted in 2020. Some sections have been edited to bring the context into the present.
“The timing of the electrical failure seemed dramatic and perfectly correct, as if the lights had said, ‘You have no need for sight. Listen.’”
— quoted from Bel Canto by Ann Patchett
There was a time, not too long ago really, when I felt like I had a certain amount of control over how I began a practice and, therefore, how I told the story that was the class. Sometimes, in part because of my history in technical theatre, I relished days like today when I could combine my thirst for the practice with my love of literature and of the performing arts. I relished creating a dramatic moment when some of my favorite things converged and collapsed into one moment. But, alas, things change and in rolling with the punches I am reminded of the original intention of the story. No matter the drama, it was always about love and the practice (and love of the practice).
In Yoga and in Buddhism, there are techniques that became so popular they are now seen as styles or traditions. There are people, in both cases, who practice each technique as if it is the whole practice. The classic example in Yoga is vinyasā – which literally means “to place in a special way” and involves sequencing poses that exaggerate the body’s natural tendencies (to expand on the inhale and flex on the exhale). In Buddhism, the classic example is vipassanā – which literally means “to see in a special way” and involves paying attention to the way the body responds to the breath (see above). Notice the common root in the Sanskrit words? Notice also the connection to the breath and the body?
There are more these two things have in common, but the most common thing may be people’s habit of translating them into English words that (sometimes) barely hint at their original meaning. So, vinyasā becomes “flow” and vipassanā becomes “insight.” The English words are true; but, make it easy to miss the point and also to miss two key elements of both practices: breath and sense withdrawal.
“She sang as if she was saving the life of every person in the room.”
— quoted from Bel Canto by Ann Patchett
Imagine singing as if you were saving lives; imagine the breath awareness and control that would take. When they hear the words bel canto, many people outside of classical music think of the novel written by Ann Patchett, who was born today in 1963. The novel is based on the 1996 — 1997 hostage crisis that took place at the Japanese Embassy in Lima Peru (Dec 17th — April 22nd). It details the interactions of the terrorists and their hostages — including a world renowned opera singer. Opera and music are central themes throughout the novel, which is named for the Italian term for “beautiful singing” or “beautiful song.” The thing is; bel canto, like vinyasā and vipassanā, is a technique that became known as a style — and it requires control (and awareness) of the breath.
At one time, “bel canto” was just a term applied to beautiful singing — much like some of the music on today’s playlist — but, specifically, to beautiful Italian singing. During the later 18th and early 19th century, however, people started using it in reference to a very specific type of Italian singing, which emphasized even tone; legato (“tied together” or long) phrasing deliberately juxtaposed to staccato (“detached” or short) phrasing — which sometimes also involved dramatic tempo changes; and vibrato (“vibrating” or pulsating). There was also an emphasis on emphasis (or accent) and how emotion was being conveyed. The technique was sometimes applied (and understood) outside of Italian music, but often with less drama attached to it.
“Love was action. It came to you. It was not a choice.”
— quoted from Bel Canto by Ann Patchett
By the end of the 19th century, people were using the term “bel canto” to specifically distinguish a certain style of opera and classical music (mostly associated with Italian and French composers) from operatic and classical music that was described as “weightier, more powerful… speech-inflicted” (and mostly associated with German composers). Similarly, as we moved into the middle and late 20th century, people started using the term “vinyasā” — and even “vipassanā” — to distinguish one type of practice from other traditional styles of practice.
In the parallels I am drawing, one of the things to note is what gets lost in translation. Sometimes, without awareness of why we move the way we move in vinyasā, people just think it’s about putting poses together and moving as swiftly as one can. In fact, there are people who are drawn to that type of practice for the very same reason it turns some people off. Similarly, some people say that they “only practice vipassanā” as a way to distance themselves from Buddhism (or their understanding of cultural Buddhism). The thing is, as I see it, the point of these techniques was to go deeper into the overall practice — and the minute you distance yourself from the intention of the practice is the minute you start spiraling into the “hear be dragons” part of the experience. Sure, it is cool to explore what is considered unchartered territory, but it must always be done (to paraphrase J. R. R. Tolkien) with awareness of the dragons / dangers.
“‘Most of the time, we’re loved for what we can do rather than for who we are. It’s not such a bad thing, being loved for what you can do.’ ‘But the other is better,’ Gen said. Roxane pulled her feet into the chair and hugged her knees to her chest. ‘Better. I hate to say better, but it is. If someone loves you for what you can do then it’s flattering, but why do you love them? If someone loves you for who you are then they have to know you, which means you have to know them.’”
— Roxanne Cross (the soprano) and Gen Watanabe (the translator) in Bel Canto by Ann Patchett
One of the “dangers” of being in close quarters for long periods of time, as people were during the hostage crisis and in the novel (and as we all were in 2020), is that people’s best and worst qualities get exaggerated. It becomes harder, sometimes impossible, to avoid conflict. Other times, it becomes harder (sometimes impossible) to ignore someone’s bad behavior. Similarly, however, we are confronted with people’s good behavior and the heart of people — if we’re paying attention and if we are open to that possibility. Certain situations are opportunities for more trauma and drama — as we have seen ever since the beginning of the pandemic. These same situations are opportunities for forgiveness and healing. But because the lines get blurred with such close proximity, it can all happen at the same time and with the same people. And, I find, that these are the times when we need to withdraw a bit.
I know, I know, you’re thinking, “But where would I go? Where can I go when everything is closed and winter is upon us?” Well, I’m glad you asked.
Some people escape inside of books, some inside of music or movies, and some inside of themselves (through practices like meditation, prayer, yoga, Tai Chi, or Qigong). The idea here is not to escape as if you are running away from home. The idea is to take a moment to turn inward, reflect, and remind yourself of what is in your heart. It’s also a way to remind yourself of what you value and of your guiding principles. Sure, it is harder to do these things during a pandemic. However, it’s harder to do these things if you are in prison or in the middle of a hostage situation… or a war — and yet, people do!
I mentioned earlier that sense withdrawal is one of the key elements shared by vinyasā and vipassanā. In the Yoga Philosophy, pratyāhāra (“withdrawing the senses”) is the fifth limb of the practice. Swami Jnaneshvara Bharati, of the Himalayan tradition, explains that placement in the philosophy by writing that “The willingness or unwillingness to withdraw attention from sensory experience is a significant dividing line between those who experience true meditation and those who experience only physical relaxation.” In other words, in order to focus, concentrate, and meditate on a single point — to the point that we are completely absorbed into (and merged with) the object our focus — we must let go of everything else.
Pratyāhāra is not, as some people believe, forcefully ignoring something or someone. Instead, this is a gentle releasing of awareness. It is something we already do unconsciously or subconsciously when we are really invested in a project or a person. In those times, we may really enjoy the experience. On the flip side, sometimes, the letting go is neither gentle nor peaceful. Sometimes, it is unexpected and jarring and creates a great deal of stress and strain. On a certain level, over the last few months years, we’ve all experienced both kinds of letting go. The question becomes, how have you perceived it (the letting go) and what have you received in turn?
“It was too much work to remember things you might not have again, and so one by one they opened up their hands and let them go.”
— quoted from Bel Canto by Ann Patchett
Please join me today (Saturday, December 2nd) at 12:00 PM, for a 90-minute yoga practice on Zoom. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Saturday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “12022020 Ann P’s Beautiful Singing”]
“But together they moved through the world quite easily, two small halves of courage making a brave whole.”
— quoted from Bel Canto by Ann Patchett
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.)
### HOW AWARE ARE YOU THAT YOU’RE BREATHING? (How about now) ###
Reduce, reuse, repurpose, recycle, and plant a tree on America Recycles Day and Plant a Tree Day (in Sri Lanka)!
“There seems to be a single starting point for psychology, exactly as for all the other sciences: the world as we find it, naïvely and uncritically. The naïveté may be lost as we proceed.”
— quoted from “Chapter I: A Discussion of Behaviorism” in Gestalt Psychology: An Introduction to New Concepts in Modern Psychology by Dr. Wolfgang Köhler
We may not have control over how a studio space is set up; however, when we make our way into the space — and/or if we have the luxury of creating our own home space — most of us put some effort into the space we are going to occupy. It may not be a lot of space, but it is ours while we are there and most people have some sense of what they need to be stable and steady, comfortable and at ease. (YS 2.46) Similarly, we don’t have any control over our genetics and the body into which we are born, but we can make an effort to be healthy and strong — or, at the very least, comfortable in our own skin (which is yet another environment). Then we get on the mat and the whole practice is about very intentionally and mindfully creating our internal (physical-mental and emotional-energetic) space… as opposed to just passively receiving the space we’ve been given.
Of course, as one of my first teachers used to say, how we do yoga is how we do life. As children, we all start off like someone entering the studio. We learn what works for us and what doesn’t (i.e., what serves us in alleviating our suffering versus what causes more suffering). However, we don’t always do the things that create steadiness, stability, ease, comfort, and maybe even joy. Sometimes, we remain a “passive recipient” instead of becoming a “co-creator” of your culture and environment?
Thanks to Merrick Rosenberg, I went down the rabbit hole almost ten years ago and came across the research of Dr. Wolfgang Köhler (a German researcher in the 1920’s and 30’s) and Dr. Gordon R. Stephenson (at the University of Wisconsin, Madison in the 1960’s). Here’s an excerpt from a 2021 post about what I found:
“Dr. Wolfgang Köhler believed (a) that subjective experience matters; (b) that the human mind and behavior have to be considered as a whole (and that whole includes subjective experience); (c) that, like chimpanzees, humans are capable of problem solving through insight learning; and (d) that people could – and one can argue should – stand up for what they believe to be right and, in doing so, actively co-create the world in which the live.”
Throughout the year, there are different days when people from different countries (and/or of different cultures) focus on be active co-creators of this world in which we all live. Today, November 15th, is one of those days. In Sri Lanka, it is Plant a Tree Day. In the United States, it is America Recycles Day (and this year’s theme is all about innovation).
“Problems may be found which were at first completely hidden from our eyes. For their solution it may be necessary to devise concepts which seem to have little contact with direct primary experience.”
— quoted from “Chapter I: A Discussion of Behaviorism” in Gestalt Psychology: An Introduction to New Concepts in Modern Psychology by Dr. Wolfgang Köhler
Please join me for a virtual yoga practice on Zoom, today (Wednesday, November 8th) at 4:30 PM or 7:15 PM. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules”calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.
(My apologies to the 4:30 folks for not getting this posted earlier.)
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.)
### Be Like the Birds (who reuse everything they can get their beaks on). ###
“Happy Diwali!” to anyone celebrating! May we all be healthy, wealthy, and wise on World Kindness Day!
For Those Who Missed It: This is a revised (and slightly expanded) “missing” post related to Monday, November 13th. Some links have been updated and a date-related note has been added for 2023. You can request an audio recording of a related practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra(at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. [NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.]
Check out the “Class Schedules” calendar for upcoming classes (and for holiday-related changes).
“Embrace me completely
just as a creeper completely embraces a tree
May you be the one loving me only, not another
may you not go away from me”
— Atharva Veda 6.8 (translated by Dr. R. L. Kashyap)
In India and Southeast Asia, Diwali (the 5-day festival of lights) is celebrated by a very diverse group of people. The diversity is not only religious and spiritual — as it is a tradition for Hindus, Jains, Sikhs, and Newar Buddhists. There are many other sociocultural differences. So, as you can imagine, there are lots of different ways that people tell the story of light overcoming darkness, good overcoming evil; life overcoming death, wisdom overcoming fear; love overcoming hate; hope overcoming despair, and knowledge overcoming ignorance.
For instance, in some rural parts of north, west, and central India, the fourth day of Diwali is a day when people observe Govardhan puja, an offering to honor the legend of Krishna saving the cowherds and farmers from the rain and floods by lifting Mount Govardhan. People build miniature-sized mountains out of cow dung and also “build” mountains of food and mountains of sweets. There is also thanksgiving, especially around the purchase of staples, like salt, which are considered essentials to life.
“with my mind I attract you
just as a bird on the ground beats its wings to go up
May you be the one loving me only, not another
may you not go away from me”
— Atharva Veda 6.8 (translated by Dr. R. L. Kashyap)
The main day of Diwali, yesterday, is often associated with the part of the epic poem the Rāmāyaņa when Rāma, his bride Sītā, and his brother Lakshmana returned home after 14 years in exile. According to the legend, their homecoming was met with brightly lit candles, lamps, and fireworks. The homecoming and the light festivities marked the end of the darkness that represented the jealousy which led to the trio’s exile and Sītā’s kidnapping during the exile, as well as the doubt and fear felt by some of the characters that appear throughout the poem. The lights symbolize the couples love, devotion, and faith in each other; Lakshmana and Hanuman’s devotion to Rāma; and their victory over those who tried to defeat them.
Ergo, for a good majority, this fourth day shines a light on love, relationships, and devotion — especially between husbands and wives. In some areas, husbands give their wives gifts and other areas parents treat their newlywed children to a feast (which also involves gifts).
In addition to telling those aforementioned parts of the Rāmāyaņa, people will also celebrate the story of the defeat of the evil King Bali. Sometimes the story is related to a husband and wife (Shiva and Pārvatī) playing a game of dice on a board with twelve squares and thirty pieces. Every element of the story is symbolic — including the fact that it is a “strip” version of the game, during which the husband ceremoniously looses all his clothes.
One of my favorite husband-wife Diwali stories is actually associated with the first day; but I also tell it on this day. It is the story of a clever wife who used light (and all the properties of light) to “defeat” Death (Yama, in the form of a snake) when he arrived on the fourth night of her marriage in order to take away her new husband, the prince. The legend always reminds me of Scheherazade, in that the wife in the Diwali story also spends the night telling stories and singing songs in order to extend life.
“I go around your mind just as the sun[light] goes around heaven and earth
May you be the one loving me only, not another
may you not go away from me”
— Atharva Veda 6.8 (translated by Dr. R. L. Kashyap)
2023 NOTE: The fourth day of Diwali (2023) coincided with World Kindness Day, which was established in 1998 by the World Kindness Movement, a coalition of non-government organizations (NGOs). In eastern philosophies, which encourage cultivating the opposites (YS 2.33 – 2.34), every emotion has an opposite (and a near peer). For example, the flip side of anger and frustration is loving-kindness. While there has been darkness in the world on this date in the past (e. g., the terrorist attacks in Paris November 13, 2015) and there is darkness in the world today, there was and is also light.
There was light in people standing together in solidarity and proclaiming “Je suis Charlie” and “Je suis Ahmed” at the beginning of 2015. And, there is light today when people who are perceived as being different from each other remember that we all human. That light is a little bit of metta in the world.
And, no, I’m not referring to a short version of a certain basketball player born today 1979. I’m referring to the reason he changed his name: the practice of lovingkindness.
There is no playlist for the Common Ground Meditation Center practices.
The 2022 Monday Night Special playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “Diwali (Day 3-4) 2022”]
The World Kindness Day playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “11132021 The Power of Kindness to the nth Degree”]
The 2020 playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “Diwali (Day 4) 2020”]
Happy Diwali and Kali Puja! Blessings, light, love, and peace to everyone, everywhere!
This “missing” post for Sunday, November 12th is a compilation of previously and newly posted information. You can request an audio recording of a related practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.
[Conscious, subconscious, unconscious mind, and every plane of existence, we meditate on the (adorable) Light, that it may inspire us, enlighten us, and remove our obstacles.]
— “Gāyatrī Mantra” from the Rig Veda (from Mandala 3.62.10)
During the darkest times of the year, people all over the world celebrate light. In each culture’s stories and traditions, light overcoming darkness is a metaphor for good overcoming evil; life overcoming death, wisdom overcoming fear; love overcoming hate; hope overcoming despair, and knowledge overcoming ignorance. Once again, the celebrations kick off with Diwali, the Indian festival of lights.
Diwali is a five-day celebration which takes its name from Deepavali, which are rows and rows of lamps. It is a lunar calendar based holiday observed throughout India, parts of Southeast Asia, and the diaspora by Hindus, Sikhs, Jains, and Newar Buddhists. Each day has different rituals and customs, which may vary between religious, cultural, and regional traditions. But, the common threads are the (clay) lamps and other great displays of light; pujas (“offerings”); feasts and sweets; epic tales of heroes and heroines prevailing; and a focus on relationships and also on wealth.
While some communities start earlier, most people’s Diwali celebrations begin with Dhanteras, a day that the Indian ministry of Ayurveda, Yoga and Naturopathy, Unani, Siddha and Homeopathy designated as “National Ayurveda Day” (in 2016). Many pujans (“offering ceremonies”) are dedicated to Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth and prosperity, fertility and abundant crops, and overall good fortunate. People also create decorations, including rangolas, which are associated with Lakshmi; clean their homes; and buy something new — usually gold, silver, clothes, and gadgets.
The second day of Diwali (which was Saturday in 2023) is known as Choti (“little”) Diwali and, also, as Naraka Chaturdasi. Naraka is a Sanskrit word for “hell” and the day is associated with the story of Krishna defeating the asura (“demon”) Narakasura. Again, the elements of the story — as well as the rituals and traditions of the day — have symbolic significance related to the ways people live their lives and the ways their souls can be liberated from suffering (i.e., hell). Some people spend the day praying to the souls of their ancestors, sending light for their afterlife journey. In some regions (e.g., Tamil Nadu, Goa, and Karnataka), Choti Diwali is the main Diwali day. People get oil massages and take ritual baths. Some people also spend part of the day visiting their temple. For people celebrating the “little” Diwali, the second day is a day to visit friends and family and share sweets and gifts.
“Fiery-eyed Durga astride a golden lion; Saraswati resplendent in white along with her swan; a glowing Lakshmi seated on a lotus in bloom; and Kali with her frightening garland of skulls. The legends that surround them are told over and over again and soon the children know them by heart. For them, as it is for me, these beautiful lotus-eyed goddesses are not just religious icons but part of one’s family. They laugh and cry, quarrel with each other over petty things, they have fragile natures despite their powerful forms. They are often jealous, angry, greedy and plot deviously against their enemies but still they need to be loved by their devotees, Then they appear, splendid, glorious and benevolent, to dazzle us with their all-pervading light.”
— quoted from the “Introduction” to The Book of Devi by Bubul Sharma
The third day (today) is the biggest day for most: Diwali! It coincides with the darkest night of the festival and is normally marked by people getting together, feasting and celebrating. In fact, this is a time when the youngest members of the family visit their elders; businesses owners give gifts to their employees; and, instead of the fasts that are commonly associated with some Indian religious rituals, there are great feasts. Pujas are again made to Lakshmi. For some people, however, pujans are dedicated to Kali, the goddess of time and change, creation, power, war, destruction, and death. In many ways, making an offering to Kali highlights the fact that Diwali is a day of renewal, new beginnings, and starting over.
The stories in the Rāmāyaņa highlight all of the themes associated with Diwali — and the end is particularly pertinent to the third day. In the epic poem (which is part of the Mahābhārata), Rāma, his wife Sītā, and his brother Lakshmana are exiled by the brothers’ father. Their great adventure includes Sītā being kidnapped by the demon king Ravana (and rescued with help from Hanuman, the monkey king); a great battle where an entire army gets sick (and ultimately healed, to Hanuman); the defeat of Ravana; and the revelation that Hanuman overcame his doubts, insecurities, and fears by focusing on the love and devotion for Lord Rama that shined (like a bright light) in his heart. Finally, after 14 years of exile, Rāma, Sītā, and Lakshmana returned home to Ayodhya — on the day that is now celebrated as Diwali. According to the legends, people lit up the city in order to guide the travelers home and also to celebrate their return. So, every year, people from all of the different religions light up their homes, businesses, and temples to commemorate this auspicious homecoming.
SIDE NOTE: As they travelled home, Sītā requested a pit stop in Kishkindha, because she wanted to enter Ayodhya with a company of women as her escorts. The request and fulfillment are conveyed in just a few lines, making up a minuscule portion of the epic poem. Normally, I would not mention this tiny passage — even though, if you think about it, it is a powerful moment when a woman who has suffered trauma and drama asks for (and receives) what she needs before facing what could be more trauma, drama, and judgement.
It also highlights the power of a group of women standing up for each other. So, it seems fitting to mention this moment on the anniversary of the birth of Elizabeth Cady Stanton — the social activist, abolitionist, and suffragist — who was born November 12, 1815, in Johnstown, New York.
“The moment we begin to fear the opinions of others and hesitate to tell the truth that is in us, and from motives of policy are silent when we should speak, the divine floods of light and life no longer flow in our souls. Every truth we see is ours to give the world, not to keep to ourselves alone, for in so doing we cheat humanity out of their rights and check our own development.”
— quoted from Elizabeth Cady Stanton’s speech at the National American Woman Suffrage Association convention (and birthday celebration for Susan B. Anthony), February 18, 1890
Sunday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “Diwali (Day 2-3) 2022”].
If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can dial 988 (in the US) or call 1-800-273-TALK (8255)for the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. You can also call this 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.
White Flag is a new app, which I have not yet researched, but which may be helpful if you need peer-to-peer (non-professional) support.
May all of us together be safe and protected / May we be peaceful and happy.
For Those Who Missed It: This slightly revised “missing” post for Monday, October 30th, was originally posted in 2022. Some formatting, syntax, and links have been revised. A picture* has been added.
You can request an audio recording of a related practice via a comment belowor (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.
“Lt. Daniel Kaffee (portrayed by Tom Cruise): I want the truth!
Col. Nathan R. Jessup (portrayed by Jack Nicholson): YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE TRUTH!”
— quoted from the movie A Few Good Men, written by Aaron Sorkin and directed by Rob Reiner
How dedicated are you to seeking the truth?
Actually, before you answer that, let’s establish how equipped you are at knowing the truth when you encounter it. How capable are you at recognizing the truth when you see it, hear it, and/or experience it? Most people might automatically say — or at least think — that they can easily tell the difference between something that is the truth and something that is not. But, is that even true?
Consider, for a moment, that our ability to identify the truth – and, therefore, our ability to identify what is not the truth — is predicated by how we feel and how we think (which is also partially based on how we feel). Additionally, how we feel and think is partially based on where we come from (i.e., where we started in life and how we were raised); the people that surround us (and who form our echo chamber); and how each of us feels about our self; as well as how we interact with the world and how we find balance in the world. I often reference this paradigm when I talk about how the chakra system in Yoga and Āyurveda can symbolically and energetically be a system through which we gain understanding about our lives and our lived experiences. It’s a system that allows us to see how things are connected and gain some insight about why, as Patanjali stated, we can only see/understand what our mind shows us:
— “The Seer is the pure power of seeing, yet its understanding is through the mind/intellect.” [Translation by Pandit Rajmani Tigunait (for comparative analysis), “The sheer power of seeing is the seer. It is pure, and yet it sees only what the mind shows it.”]
One way to look at Yoga Sūtra 2.20 is that our subconscious and unconscious mind only shows us what it thinks we are ready to consciously comprehend — or, at least consider. And, while all of the aforementioned elements play a part in what we are ready to comprehend or consider, there are times when how we feel, on a very visceral level, holds the heaviest weight.
For instance, let’s say you are deathly afraid of something and you think you are coming into contact with that something. Fear is an emotional response to a perceived threat and the emotion activates the sympathetic nervous system, which in turn prepares your whole being to do the thing(s) you need to do in order to survive. In that moment, when the the fight/flight/freeze (or collapse) response kicks in, it doesn’t matter if the threat is real: it only matters that the fear is real. Remember, there is some part of us that viscerally responds to fear of loss (especially as the result of a change in circumstances) in the same way we would respond to fear of physical death. So, the fear kicks in, the sympathetic nervous system kicks in, and (for many people) that means our ability to know/comprehend the truth diminishes — especially if we are not actively dedicated to the pursuit of truth.
Classic texts from India philosophies often use the example of someone walking through the woods and seeing (what appears to be) a snake. The snake is humongous and appears to lying in the sun, directly in your path. If you have ophidiophobia and are deathly afraid of snakes, it may not matter that you also know giant snakes (like anacondas and pythons) are not indigenous to your region. You have no intention of getting a little closer — even in a mindfully safe way — to see if that thing really is a constricting snake. Similarly, it may not even occur to you to look through the binoculars hanging around your neck. After all, if there is one, there might be more, and you’re better off just fleeing the area.
In the sacred texts, the truth is that the “snake” is actually a giant hunk of rope. Of course, in this example, the way one feels and thinks, combined with one’s previous experiences and other factors (like if you are alone or with someone who is also afraid of snakes) means that you may never know the truth. Another example of this kind of phenomenon occurred on Mischief Night 1938.
“At most terrestrial men fancied there might be other men upon Mars, perhaps inferior to themselves and ready to welcome a missionary enterprise. Yet across the gulf of space, minds that are to our minds as ours are to those of the beasts that perish, intellects vast and cool and unsympathetic, regard this earth with envious eyes and slowly and surely drew their plans against us. And early in the twentieth twentieth century came the great disillusionment.”
— quoted from “Book I: The Coming of the Martians — Chapter 1. The Eve of the War” in War of the Worlds by H. G. Wells
“‘With infinite complacence, people went to and fro over the earth about their little affairs, serene in the assurance of their dominion over this small spinning fragment of solar driftwood which by chance or design man has inherited out of the dark mystery of Time and Space. Yet across an immense ethereal gulf, minds that are to our minds as ours are to the beasts in the jungle, intellects vast, cool and unsympathetic, regarded this earth with envious eyes and slowly and surely drew their plans against us. In the 39th year of the 20th century came the great disillusionment. It was near the end of October. Business was better. The war scare was over. More men were back at work. Sales were picking up. On this particular evening, October 30th, the Crossley service estimated that 32 million people were listening in on radios…’”
— quoted from Orson Welles introduction at the beginning of the radio adaptation of The War of the Worlds
On October 30, 1938, at 8 PM ET, The Mercury Theater on the Air started broadcasting its Halloween episode on Columbia Broadcasting System (CBS) Radio and its affiliates. The show was a live radio series created and hosted by Orson Welles, who had recently turned 23 years old. Starting on July 11, 1938, with Bram Stoker’s Dracula, a company of actors had presented dramatizations of great novels, plays, and short stories accompanied by Bernard Hermann’s dramatic musical scores. The works selected were, by and large, already familiar to the people who tuned in. Maybe everyone hadn’t read all of Charles Dickens’s serialized novels or seen a production of John Drinkwater’s play about Abraham Lincoln, but the 1938 audience for sure knew about about A Tale of Two Cities and Oliver Twist, just as they knew about President Lincoln and his life. Similarly, people would have been familiar with the novel selected for the 17th episode of the radio show: H. G. Wells’s 1898 novel War of the Worlds, a story about Martians invading Earth.
Sunday newspapers ran charts of what was scheduled to air on any given day and, in this case, very clearly listed the title and author. The broadcast began, as those broadcasts typically did, with an announcement that the radio play was a fictional, dramatization of the novel — again, indicating title and author. Similar announcements were made, as they typically would be, before and after the intermission and at the end of the broadcast. In fact, at the end of the broadcast, Orson Welles even reinforced the idea that the broadcast had simply and innocently been a little bit of Halloween fun.
Alas, the announcements turned out to be like binoculars around a scared person’s neck.
Some people apparently missed the first announcement. Maybe they were preoccupied, rushing to finish something before they sat down to listen. Maybe they were in the habit of first listening to The Chase and Sanborn Hour with Edgar Bergen, over on NBC Radio Network, and then flipping over to CBS during a musical interlude. Maybe they just weren’t paying attention because they were in the habit of tuning out the radio stations “commercials.” Either way, some people thought Martians really were invading. Others thought, given the timing, that the Germans were invading.
“Ham Radio Operator (portrayed by Frank Readick): 2X2L calling CQ, New York. Isn’t there anyone on the air? Isn’t there anyone on the air? Isn’t there… anyone?
[SILENCE]
Radio Announcer, Dan Seymour: You are listening to a CBS presentation of Orson Welles and The Mercury Theatre on the Air, in an original dramatization of The War of the Worlds by H. G. Wells. The performance will continue after a brief intermission. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.”
— quoted from The Mercury Theater on the Air live radio broadcast of The War of the Worlds
Normally, it wouldn’t matter if someone missed the first announcement, ran to the bathroom during the intermission and missed the next two announcements. It also wouldn’t normally matter if someone turned off the radio as soon as the final announcement was being made. Normally, there would be all kinds of clues to let the audience know they were listening to actors — who could be described as professional liars — creating a scenario that someone made up for their entertainment. Normally, they might hear the very words they had previously read about their favorite characters and scenarios and think, “Oh, this is my favorite part!”
But, the broadcast on Mischief Night 1938 was not exactly normal.
One of the things that made the Mischief Night radio production different was that the adaptation by Howard Koch moved the alien invasion from the beginning of 20th century England to mid-20th century United States. Specifically, the radio play set the action in Grovers Mill, New Jersey, an unincorporated rural area in West Windsor Township. (NOTE: According to the 1940 census, the township’s total population was 2,160, and Grovers Mill is a tiny portion of that.) Another change in the content was that, at the beginning of the novel, H. G. Wells kind of breaks the “fourth wall” and reminds readers that they are, in fact, reading… a book. On the other hand, the creators of the radio play actually went out of their way to reinforce the “fourth wall.”
A day and a half before the rehearsals began, Mr. Koch and his secretary Anne Froelick called the show’s producer, John Houseman, to say that the adaptation wasn’t going to work. The three got together and reworked the script. Unfortunately, when Orson Welles heard a mock recording, he thought it was boring. He wanted the dramatization to sound like the evening news being interrupted by a “breaking news” report, complete with eyewitness accounts and remote correspondents.
Associate Producer Paul Stewart joined the original trio in another late night effort to re-work the script. The group added details to make the radio play more dramatic, more intense and more realistic. When the legal department reviewed the script, 2 days before the broadcast, they said it was too realistic and wanted some details tweaked and some deleted. Music and sound effects were added — and then Orson Welles requested interlude music to be played in longer stretches, as if the station was stretching out the time as they for waited more updates. All the changes in format ended up meaning that the typical midway intermission break got pushed back a little; further convincing the audience that the broadcast was real news. Additionally, only the final act of the radio play sounded and felt like a radio play.
“Question: Were you aware of the terror such a broadcast would stir up?
Welles: Definitely not. The technique I used was not original with me. It was not even new. I anticipated nothing unusual.
Question: Should you have toned down the language of the drama?
Welles: No, you don’t play murder in soft words.
Question: Why was the story changed to put in names of American cities and government officers?
Welles: H. G. Wells used real cities in Europe, and to make the play more acceptable to American listeners we used real cities in America. Of course, I’m terribly sorry now.”
— quoted from the 1938 Halloween press conference regarding The Mercury Theater on the Air live radio broadcast of The War of the Worlds
According to John Houseman’s autobiography, Run-Through: A Memoir, Executive Producer Davidson Taylor left the studio to take a phone call at 8:32 PM and returned at 8:36 PM — this was the first indication that something had gone wrong. They station was being ordered to halt the broadcast and announce, again, that it was all fake. They were so close to a break that they decided to continue. Shortly thereafter, one of the actors noticed police officers arriving. More police officers followed, as well as radio attendants and executives. More phone calls came in. Journalists from actual news stations showed up and/or called the station and their affiliates.
When the actors left The Mercury Theater on the Air theatre, they stood at 42nd and Broadway, the intersection known for the performing arts, and saw the headline ticker on the New York Times building proclaiming, “ORSON WELLES CAUSES PANIC.” They didn’t know, at the time, that an unrelated blackout in Washington state contributed to some people’s confusion. Neither could they know that Jack Paar, the announcer for Cleveland’s CBS affiliate WGAR, who would go on to host The Tonight Show, was having a hard time convincing people that the show was just a Halloween “trick.” People were already convinced that they knew the actual truth — the aliens, or the Germans, were coming. Jack Paar, and anyone else who said otherwise, were all part of an elaborate cover-up.
“‘The world is not coming to an end. Trust me. When have I ever lied to you?’”
— Jack Paar, announcing for WGAR, October 30, 1938
Some people who have studied the events of October 30, 1938, have said that the journalists of the time exaggerated how many people were actually fooled and how many actually went into a panic. Some people have said that the degree to which “panic ensued” has become an urban myth. That, rather than millions, the number of people who actually thought the Martians, or Germans, were invading New Jersey (of all places) was a few hundred thousand… or maybe just a few thousand. Some people might even say that a post like this is part of the problem.
What no one disputes, however, is that some people did panic.
And, the truth is, I don’t know how much the number of people who were a little confused and/or who completely panicked matters. I’m not even sure I care if a (presumably) drunken resident of Grovers Mill shot at the water tower — that had been there all of his life — because he thought it was an Martian spaceship or if someone had to talk him out of shooting at the water tower. (That, again, had been there all of his life.) What’s important to me, in this moment, is how the human mind works and the fact that how it worked in 1938 is the way it works today, in 2022 [… and 2023].
According to the Yoga Philosophy, suffering is caused by avidyā (“ignorance”), which is an afflicted/dysfunctional thought pattern. Patanjali’s Yoga Sūtras outlines different examples of avidyā and also explains that ignorance is the bedrock for the other four types of afflicted/dysfunctional thinking — including fear of loss/death. So, what’s important to me is that how we feel and think affects what we say and do and if what we feel and think leads us to untruths, we will say and do things that create suffering.
It’s easy to look at someone else, someone who believes something we “absolutely know is not true,” and pass judgement. It is easy to disparage their character and describe them in negative ways. It’s takes a little more effort to question why they believe what they believe what they believe; to go a little deeper. It takes even more effort to do a little svādhyāya (self-study) and question why we believe what we believe. Do the work.
“Question 1: Is it true? Question 2: Can you absolutely know its true? Question 3: How do you react—what happens—when you believe that thought? Question 4: Who would you be without the thought? Bonus: Turn the thought around.”
— Byron Katie’s “4 Questions” from “The Work”
There is no playlist for the Common Ground Meditation Center practices.
The playlist for previous years is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “10302021 Out of Our Worlds”]
*NOTE: Yes, that’s been there all my life and I just didn’t pay any attention to it until last week.
Peace to all, every day and especially on Saint Crispin’s Day!
This is the “missing” post Wednesday, October 25th. It features some previously posted information (with links to the related 2020 posts). WARNING: This post and the linked post reference historical battles and individual challenges. You can request an audio recording of the practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.
“This day is call’d the Feast of Crispian. He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam’d, And rouse him at the name of Crispian. He that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, And say ‘To-morrow is Saint Crispian.’”
— quoted from Act IV, Scene iii, of Henry V by William Shakespeare
Today, October 25th, is Saint Crispin’s Day, also known as the Feast Day of Saint Crispin — although, technically, it is the feast day of Saint Crispin and his twin brother* Saint Crispinian. The brothers were reportedly Roman noblemen who gave up their riches and became cobblers when they converted to Catholicism. They initially escaped religious persecution by fleeing to Soissons, in northern France; however, their success as cobblers and lay preachers ultimately led to them martyred today in 286 (or, possibly, 285).
Saint Crispin and Saint Crispinian are the patron saints of cobblers, curriers, glove makers, lace makers, lace workers, leather workers, saddle makers, saddlers, shoemakers, tanners, weavers. I would wager, however, that outside of those industries, most people don’t think about the saints, themselves, so much as they think about the day — which is ironic when you consider that their feast day is a black letter day in most Christian traditions.
Prior to the invention of the printing press, calendars in the Roman Republic used red ink for special holidays. The Roman Catholic Church continued this tradition for their liturgical calendar and printed the dates of lesser holidays, those that were not part of the liturgy, in black letters. I am unclear if Saint Crispin’s Day was ever a red-letter day; but, it was (temporarily) removed from the Roman Catholic liturgical calendar shortly after Vatican II.
Up until recently, I had also removed it from my calendar.
I do not remember the exact moment I decided to stop focusing on Saint Crispin’s Day. However, the reason I took it off my calendar is probably the same reason it was even on my calendar in the first place. It is also the reason most people remember the day (if not the date): William Shakespeare and the day’s association with war.
“This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispine Crispian shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembred;”
— quoted from Act IV, Scene iii, of Henry V by William Shakespeare
William Shakespeare’s play Henry V (originally titled The Cronicle History of Henry the fift and The Life of Henry the Fifth in the Frist Quatro and First Folio, respectively) is a history play and — like William Wordsworth’s poem about Vice-Admiral Horatio Nelson and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s poem about Paul Revere — it is a great example of myth building. The play is all about King Henry V of England just before and after the Battle of Agincourt, which took place on October 25, 1415. A significant part of the Hundred Years’ War (1337–1453), a Middle Ages conflict between England and France over land, titles, power, and nationalism, the Battle of Agincourt was memorable for several reasons.
First, the Battle of Agincourt was an unexpected victory for the English and it gave them control of the disputed area for 14 years. Second, King Henry was actually (physically) involved in the battle; while Charles VI of France was plagued by extreme mental health issues and did not (directly) command the French army. Finally, William Shakespeare memorialized England’s victory — and King Henry V’s leadership — with the play that, some would argue, features one of the most inspirational call–to–arms in literature and theatre: the Saint Crispin’s Day speech.
“We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;”
— quoted from Act IV, Scene iii, of Henry V by William Shakespeare
Parts of Hal’s speech have been used in relation to other armed conflicts — like the Battle of Balaclava which was fought on October 25, 1854 — as well as in relation to political battles in the British parliament and the United States government. Shakespeare’s words have also been quoted and/or paraphrased in movies, television shows, video games, music, and books. They have been used by people on the right side of history, as well as by those who have ended up on the wrong side of history.
The powerful words above have bolstered people, for sure; but, I can’t help wondering if they have also mislead people. After all, we are all connected before a single drop of blood is shed. We have all been connected through shared challenges and traumas, especially over the last few years — and can “strip [our] sleeve and show [our] scars” to prove it. But, even before all that, we are brothers, sisters, and siblings in and of the Spirit. We are all connected through breath and the act of breathing.
Here are a couple of excerpts from a related 2020 post entitled, “First Step: Breathe In, Second Step: Breathe Out”:
“As different as our circumstances, our appearances, and personalities — and therefore our lives — may be, there are certain things we all have in common. We all live and die, love and are loved, experience great wins and great loss. We are also, to paraphrase First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt, all in this together — even when we feel alone, isolated, and going through things we can’t imagine anyone else understanding. Yet, here we sit and stand and lie — here we are, struggling together and apart; finding our way together, even though we are apart.”
“Then there were more changes, more challenges, more conflicts, and more compromises. And, through it all, I did the same thing you did — I kept breathing. What was helpful (and continues to be helpful), above and beyond everything else, was knowing how to breath and being surrounded by people who also were focused on knowing how to breathe. Breath, after all, is life. It’s not enough just to breathe, however, because how we breathe determines how we live.”
None of us can survive without breathing. Just as it is important to put on our own oxygen mask first when there is an emergency (so that we can help others), I think it is important to remember how our breath is connected to our minds and bodies. Breathing into that connection with awareness can reinforce our connections to each other. In the first part of the Yoga Sūtras, Patanjali breaks down a list of obstacles, distractions, and ailments that hinder someone’s ability to be the best version of themselves. (YS 1.30 – 1.31) Then he gives examples of ways to meditate in order to clear the mind and remove the obstacles, distractions, and ailments. One of those suggestions is to focus on the breath — specifically, on the exhale and the extension of the breath. (YS 1.34)
Another way to look at the practice is to consider how using the breath to reinforce the mind-body connection, as well as our connection to all of humanity, also has the power to — as William Shakespeare put it — gentle someone’s vile condition.
“Mindfulness of breathing takes the highest place among the various subjects of Buddhist meditation. It has been recommended and praised by the Enlightened One thus: ‘This concentration through mindfulness of breathing, when developed and practiced much, is both peaceful and sublime, it is an unadulterated blissful abiding, and it banishes at once and stills evil unprofitable thoughts as soon as they arise.’ Though of such a high order, the initial stages of this meditation are well within the reach of a beginner though he be only a lay student of the Buddha-Dhamma.”
— quoted from the commentary on the Satipatthana Sutta (The Foundations of Mindfulness) by Nyanasatta Thera
Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “10272020 Pranayama II”]
“‘Breathing lessons – really,’ [Fiona] said, dropping to the floor with a thud. ‘Don’t they reckon I must know how to breathe by now?’”
“‘Oh honey, you’re just lucky they offer such things,’ Maggie told her…. ‘I mean you’re given all these lessons for the unimportant things–piano-playing, typing. You’re given years and years of lessons in how to balance equations, which Lord knows you will never have to do in normal life. But how about parenthood? Or marriage, either, come to think of it. Before you can drive a car you need a state-approved course of instruction, but driving a car is nothing, nothing, compared to living day in and day out with a husband and raising up a new human being.’”
— quoted from Breathing Lessons by Anne Tyler
*NOTE: Some scholars describe Saint Crispin and Saint Crispinian as twins; some simply as brothers; and some indicate that they were brothers in Spirit.
### Breathe In (Know That We Are All Breathing In); Breathe Out (Know That We Are All Breathing Out) ###
Peace to all, every day and especially on Saint Crispin’s Day!
“‘Breathing lessons – really,’ [Fiona] said, dropping to the floor with a thud. ‘Don’t they reckon I must know how to breathe by now?’”
— quoted from Breathing Lessons by Anne Tyler
Please join me for a virtual yoga practice on Zoom, today (Wednesday, October 25th) at 4:30 PM or 7:15 PM. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “10272020 Pranayama II”]
“‘Oh honey, you’re just lucky they offer such things,’ Maggie told her…. ‘I mean you’re given all these lessons for the unimportant things–piano-playing, typing. You’re given years and years of lessons in how to balance equations, which Lord knows you will never have to do in normal life. But how about parenthood? Or marriage, either, come to think of it. Before you can drive a car you need a state-approved course of instruction, but driving a car is nothing, nothing, compared to living day in and day out with a husband and raising up a new human being.’”
— quoted from Breathing Lessons by Anne Tyler
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.)
### Breathe In (Know That We Are All Breathing In); Breathe Out (Know That We Are All Breathing Out) ###
A Joyful Practice 