[This is the super-sized “missing” post related to Wednesday, May 19th. You can request an audio recording of Wednesday’s 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.
“A good puzzle, it’s a fair thing. Nobody is lying. It’s very clear, and the problem depends just on you.”
– Ernö Rubik
How is life like a puzzle? Or not like a puzzle?
Ernö Rubik, the Hungarian architect and architect professor who invented the Rubik’s Cube today in 1974, didn’t set out to be an inventor – let alone the inventor of one of the most popular toys of the 80’s. His original intention was to build a three dimensional model he could use to help his architecture students develop spatial awareness and solve design problems. The only problem was that he wanted to be able to move the parts around without taking the model apart and putting it back together. One day, while walking on a cobblestone bridge in Budapest, he looked down and realized if the core of his model resembled the cobblestones he could twist and turn the pieces accordingly.
Physically speaking, we humans have parts that are similar to the core of the Rubik’s cube – and even the Rubik’s snake. But, if you go a little deeper, you will find that we are not only connected in a physical (body) way, we also have mental, emotional, energetic, and spiritual connections that bind us to our current time and place and also provide support as we move through our practice and through our lives.
Obviously, Western science has a physical and energetic mapping system. As do the traditional sciences like the systems that come from China, Africa, and India. For example, yoga and Ayurveda, as they come to us from India, provide an energetic mapping system through which we can view and process our lives and experiences. This mapping system consists of nadis (energy “channels” or “rivers”) which house our vitality/spirit; chakras (energy “wheels”), which are the intersecting points of the three major nadis; and marma (“secret” or “vulnerable”) points. The nadis and chakras are part of the subtle body. The marma points are pressure points where the subtle/energetic body meets the physical/tangible body – and are typically found where tendons, bones, muscles, joints, veins, nerves, and other tissues come together. They can be healing points (because they are places where vital energy should flow, but can become stagnant); however, they are also “kill” points – which is why they are called secret.
In our yoga practice, I often mention how seven chakras are energetically and symbolically connected to the body and to our lived experiences. For example, the 1stchakra is associated with our lower bodies (toes, feet, ankles, knees, legs, and pelvic floor) and energetically and symbolically connected to our first family, tribe, and community of birth. I will often point out, as well, that just as we can be genetically connected to people we have never met and will never meet, we can be energetically connected to people we have never met and will never meet. Notice that this area, physically and energetically, provides our foundational support in life.
According to this same paradigm, the 2ndchakra (hips and lowest portion of the abdominal cavity) is connected to the friends we make outside of our early support system (and, I believe, the friendships we choose to make as adults with people who may be in that first group). Take a moment to consider how where you start in life plays a part in how you “cultivate a good heart” (i.e., make friends) with people who are perceived as being different from you. (Or not.) Take a moment to consider that, even with the proliferation of internet access, geography (again, where we come from) also plays a part in who is able to make up our close circle of friends. (Remember, Linda Brown had a diverse group of friends in her neighborhood, but did not go to school with them and, therefore, had different experiences from them – differences that shaped the course of her life.)
The 3rdchakra (solar plexus or middle and upper abdominal cavity) is energetically connected to our ego, of self, personality, self esteem, and how we see ourselves in the world. This area is even, to a certain degree, connected to how we think others perceive us. Take a moment to consider how where you come from and the friends you make along the way play a part in how you see and understand yourself.
Notice, for a moment, how all of these areas are related to our physical stability and how each area of experience builds on the other areas our lives – just as our body stacks up on itself. This building process continues through the heart chakra (which is connected to our capacity to love and extend ourselves and our gifts to others); the throat chakra (connected to will and determination); the third eye or 6thchakra (connected to our sense of Truth); and the crown or 7thchakra (connected to our sense of this present moment).
Considering these connections, as I suggested in the first three examples, can be a form of svādyāya (“self-study”). However, to really go deep, we might consider the lived experiences of other people and our physical-mental responses to those lived experiences. Take, for instance, the lived experiences of Johns Hopkins, Malcolm X, and Lorraine Hansberry – all of whom were born on May 19th in different parts of the United States of America.
While we could view their lives through the “lens” of each chakra, I am really just focusing here on the first three – which are related to foundational support and connection/bonding. If you were practicing with me (or reading the blog) over the last month and half, you will have noticed references to the Tree of Life and to how in Kabbalah (Jewish mysticism), seven of the 10 sefirot (“emanations” of the Divine) can be overlapped with parts of the body. One of those parts being the pelvic and abdominal regions, which is associated with yesod (“foundation” and “bonding”). Notice, that if you are sitting (especially if you are sitting on the floor), there is a direct overlap between the first through third chakras and the area associated with yesod.
“[JOSEPH] ASAGAI: Just sit awhile and think… Never be afraid to sit awhile and think.”
– quoted from A Raisin in the Sun by Lorraine Hansberry
Johns Hopkins was born May 19, 1795, on his family’s 500-acre tobacco plantation (White’s Hall, named after the originally owner of the land) in what is now Gambrills, Maryland. The Samuel Hopkins and Hannah Janney Hopkins had eleven children and were part of the Religious Society of Friends (Quakers). They also owned slaves, but in theory the family freed their slaves in 1807 – when Johns Hopkins was 12 years old – in accordance with their Quaker beliefs. According to the often repeated stories, Johns (and his siblings) worked in the field with indentured and freed Blacks from the time he was 12, until he left home at 17.
I hesitate to mention that last bit; first, because it may be more legend than truth. Second, because even if the stories are true, the Hopkins siblings and the Blacks had very different experiences. However, it’s a connection (a 3rd chakra connection) and it’s interesting to consider how the school-aged siblings – Johns, in particular, felt when they had to quit school in order to work in the fields. It would also be interesting to know what became of those indentured and freed Blacks (and their descendant)… but I don’t currently know that information.
What I do know, is that Johns left home at 17, went to work for a paternal uncle who owned a wholesale grocery, fell in love with his first cousin (who he couldn’t marry), and eventually started a business with a fellow Quaker, Benjamin P. Moore (not to be confused with the Irish immigrant who started the paint company with his brothers). When Moore left the business, Johns and three of his brothers started building their own wholesale empire.
Eventually, Johns Hopkins became wealthy enough to provide for his extended family; bail out the City of Baltimore and a railroad company when they ran into financial difficulties, and retire at 52. The millionaire entrepreneur, investor, and philanthropist died childless and unmarried (as did his first cousin, Elizabeth). However, he left bequests to provide for his extended family (including Elizabeth, for whom he provided a home) and his longest serving servant (James Jones). He is also left bequests that founded a number of organizations including Johns Hopkins Hospital (which was instructed to admit “the indigent poor – “without regard to sex, age or color”) and Johns Hopkins University (the country’s first research university), as well as a nursing school, an academic press, and an orphanage for African-American children that became a training school before it was closed. Those bequests, which went into effect when Johns Hopkins died on Christmas Eve 1873 at the age of 78, totaled about $7 million (which would be the equivalent of approximately $147.5 million today).
Johns Hopkins and the institutions that he founded with his bequests have a complicated legacy. Again, there is the whole origin story – which would explain some of his future actions… but, then again, there’s evidence that the story isn’t completely true. He is remembered as an abolitionist (which would be in keeping with his Quaker roots), who supported President Abraham Lincoln (even when it caused him some grief with other businessmen); however, there is evidence that he personally owned slaves at least 3 years after his retirement. Then there’s the legacy of the institutions that bear(ed) his name, including Johns Hopkins Hospital – which is where Henrietta Lacks was able to be treated for cancer and where cells were taken from her cervix (2ndchakra) for research purposes (without her knowledge or consent).
“I am a man!”
– a declaration of humanity that dates back to the abolitionists movement and was used as a slogan during the South African anti-apartheid and American Civil Rights movements, as well as being a legal point during the Dred Scott and Chief Standing Bear cases in the United States
“P. S. 153, Harlem School Teacher [portrayed by Mary Alice]: May 19th we celebrate Malcolm X’s birthday, because he was a great, great Afro-American. And Malcolm X is you. All of you. And you are Malcolm X.
[Students in P. S. 153, Harlem classroom and Soweto classroom [portrayed by John David Washington, Aaron Blackshear, Nilyne Fields, Rudi Bascomb, Muhammad Parks, Chinere Parry, Ian Quiles, Sharmeek Martinez, Ashanti (uncredited), and 1 uncredited actor]: I am Malcolm X!
Soweto Teacher [portrayed by Nelson Mandela]: As brother Malcolm said, We declare our right on this earth to be a man, to be a human being, to be given the rights of a human being, to be respected as a human being, in this society, on this earth, in this day, which we intended to bring into existence…
Malcolm X: … by any means necessary.”
– quoted from the movie Malcolm X (or X) directed by Spike Lee, co-written by Spike Lee and Arnold Perl, based on The Autobiography of Malcolm X by Malcolm X and Alex Haley
Born Malcolm Little on March 19, 1925, in Omaha, NE, Malcolm X was the fourth of seven children born to Earl Little (who had three children from a previous marriage) and Louise Helen Little (who was an immigrant from the West Indies). Malcolm’s parents were active members of the Universal Negro Improvement Association and African Communities League (UNIA-ACL), a Black nationalist fraternal organization founded by Pan-African Marcus Garvey. By the time he was 2 years old, the family had been uprooted twice (moving to Milwaukee, Wisconsin and then Lansing, Michigan), because of threats from the Klu Klux Klan, in response to Earl Little’s speeches. Around the time he was 4, the family moved again after their home burned down under suspicious circumstances – circumstances that the Little patriarch directly connected to the Black Legion, a Midwestern offshoot of the KKK.
When Malcolm was 6, his father died in a streetcar incident that was officially declared an accident, that one insurance company called a suicide, and that the Little matriarch directly connected to the Black Legion. The family did benefit from a smaller life insurance policy; they received $18 a month for a little over four years. Strapped for cash, the family made ends meet by renting out a portion of their garden and hunting. By the time he was 12, Malcolm’s mother thought she would re-marry – only to have the man disappear after she became pregnant. She had a mental breakdown and was institutionalized when he was 13 years. The Little children were split up and sent into foster care.
“Education is an important element in the struggle for human rights. It is the means to help our children and our people rediscover their identity and thereby increase their self respect. Education is our passport to the future, for tomorrow belongs to those who prepare for it today.”
– quoted from a speech at the Audubon Ballroom on June 28, 1964, marking the founding of the Organization of Afro-American Unity (OAAU), by Malcolm X
Malcolm X dropped out of school when a teacher told him he couldn’t be lawyer because of his race (only she used a racial slur when she said it) and he started working the odd jobs hustle. Eventually he moved to Roxbury (the African-American neighborhood which, centuries earlier, had been the starting place of William Dawes’s “Midnight Ride” for freedom) to live with one of his older half-sisters, Ella Little-Collins. But, he didn’t say long; eventually moving to Flint, Michigan and then to Harlem in New York City. It was in Harlem that people started calling him “Detroit Red” to distinguish him from the other redhead working at Jimmy’s Chicken Shack, “Chicago Red” (the aspiring comedian who became famous as Red Foxx).
And the hustle to survive and support himself (you know, 1stchakra stuff) continued – only by the time he reached Harlem (and his late teens / early twenties) the hustle had turned unquestionably illegal and violent. He celebrated his 21st birthday in prison and was transferred to a second prison by the time he was 23. It was in prison, where people initially called him “Satan,” that Malcolm X became associated with the Nation of Islam, publically spoke out against the Korean War – and in favor of communism – and got rid of the “white slavemaster name which… [had been] imposed upon my paternal forebearers.”
By the time he was 25 (and still in prison), the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) had started a file on him. After serving six of an eight-to-ten year sentence in prison, he was paroled and actively working (and recruiting) for the Nation of Islam. By the time he was 28, he was under surveillance by the FBI (which is, you know, 2ndchakra stuff).
Malcolm was making a name for himself within the Nation of Islam (and within the halls of the FBI), but he didn’t make it onto the general public’s radar until 1957, when he intervened after four African-American men were arrested. Three of the men were Nation of Islam members who had tried to verbally stop New York police officers who were beating the fourth man, Reese V. Poe, who was not a member of the Nation. One of the Nation of Islam members, Johnson X Hinton, was severely beaten and incarcerated without medical treatment – until Malcolm intervened. The police were alarmed by the way in which he spoke up, coordinated Johnson’s medical treatment, arranged for all four men to be bailed out, and seemed to control the angry crowd of several thousand (when he got them to peacefully, and relatively silently, disperse with a simple hand single gesture).
[Side Note: Johnson X Hinton was “released” the next morning. He immediately required more medical attention. While he survived his injuries, he needed multiple brain surgeries and lived the rest of his life with a metal plate in his head. An all-white jury would eventually award him $70,000, which (at the time) was the largest NYPD payout for a brutality case.]
At 32, Malcolm was under surveillance by the FBI and the NYPD (who had started running background checks with the prisons and in the cities where he had live). When Malcolm objected to the fact that none of the police officers involved in the assault were indicted, the NYPD sent undercover agents to join the Nation of Islam. That extra layer of conflict was also reflected within the Nation – as Malcolm’s prominence increased so too did the in-fighting. By his late 30’s, he was pulling away from the Nation, turning towards Sunni Islam, and softening his stance on some of his more militant opinions (like the role of white people in the movement for equality).
With financial assistance from his half-sister (Ella), he completed the hajj (spiritual “pilgrimage” to Mecca) in 1964. He also travelled to various parts of Africa (several times), France, and the United Kingdom – giving speeches and interviews throughout his travels and in the United States. Whereas he had called himself Malcom Shabazz when he first joined the Nation of Islam and publically used Malcolm X, after his hajj went by the name El Hajj Malik el-Shabazz. His wife, Betty X (née Sanders) also changed her last name Shabazz (and adopted a new first name after her hajj in 1965). Malcolm and Betty would have six daughters, including twins who were born about seven months after Malcolm was assassinated. His four oldest daughters witness his murder.
The assassination of Malcolm X, while the 39-year old was giving a speech in the Audubon Ballroom, came after a series of threats (some of which were recorded by the FBI) and an escalation in violence, including a fire that burned the Shabazz home down – just like his childhood home had been burned down. Only this time, the suspected culprits were Black nationalists instead of white nationalists. Three members of the Nation of Islam were arrested and convicted for his murder – although the one who admitted his guilt proclaimed the other two innocent and the other two maintained their innocence. Tens of thousands of people attended the public viewing and funeral, which was also broadcasted into the street and on live television.
Unlike with his father’s suspicious death, people are still investigating conspiracy theories surrounding the suspicious death of Malcolm X – including why NYPD officers reportedly entered the Audubon Ballroom on February 21, 1965, after shots were fired, without a single gun drawn.
“Tonight, during the few moments that we have, we’re going to have a little chat, like brothers and sisters and friends, and probably enemies too, about the prospects for peace – or the prospects for freedom in 1965. As you notice I almost slipped and said peace. Actually, you can’t separate peace from freedom because no one can be at peace unless he has his freedom. You can’t separate the two – and this is the thing that makes 1965 so explosive and dangerous.”
– quoted from the “Prospects for Freedom in 1965” speech at the Militant Labor Forum on January 7, 1965 by Malcolm X
In the case of Malcolm X, life replicated life. In the case Lorraine Vivian Hansberry, who was born in Chicago, Illinois on May 19, 1930, art imitated life. She was the youngest of four children born to Carl Augustus Hansberry (a successful real estate broker) and Nannie Louise (née Perry) Hansberry (a driving school teacher and member of the ward committee). The Hansberrys were supporters of the Urban League and the NAACP in Chicago, as well as active members of the Chicago Republican Party. Their home was frequently visited by prominent members of the African-American community, including known Civil Rights activists.
That home was the source of a lot of external (i.e., 2ndchakra) conflict as it was located in the Washington Park Subdivision on the South Side of Chicago, in what was originally an exclusively white neighborhood. There were restrictive covenants in place to enforce segregation, but occasionally a Black family could convince someone to sell them the house. Money talks and, not coincidentally, the first African-American to move into the neighborhood was a banker and realtor (Jesse Binga) whose wife (Eudora Johnson) inherited $200,000 from her notorious gambling kingpin brother (John “Mushmouth” Johnson). The Binga’s home was bombed at least five times – in what was an otherwise peaceful neighborhood.
The Great Depression caused a decrease in the number of white families who were financial able to purchase homes in the neighborhood, but there were relatively affluent Black families – like the Hansberrys – were in a better financial position and had the realtor knowledge to get around the covenants, which they did when Lorraine was 8 years old. The only problem was getting around the covenants didn’t get around racist and hostile neighbors. In addition to the physical, in-person, hostilities, some of the neighbors tried to take legal action to prevent the family from moving in. The family persisted. Eventually, the elder Hansberry sued the neighbors under the premise that the restrictive covenants (and the neighbors’ behavior) violated the 14th Amendment rights of born and naturalized Black citizens of the United States.
The case was ultimately decided by the Supreme Court (1940) in favor of Carl Hansberry. It would become the inspiration for Lorraine’s award-winning Broadway play, A Raisin in the Sun. The play made a 29-year old Lorraine the youngest playwright, the first Black playwright, and the fifth woman to win a New York Drama Critics’ Circle Award. It would be almost twenty years beforeanother play by a Black woman to be performed on Broadway and, unless I am missing something, it would be 22 years before another Black playwright (South African Athol Fugard) won the New York Drama Critics’ Circle Award.
“Thus, twenty-five years ago, [my father] spent a small personal fortune, his considerable talents, and many years of his life fighting, in association with NAACP attorneys, Chicago’s ‘restrictive covenants’ in one of this nation’s ugliest ghettos. That fight also required our family to occupy disputed property in a hellishly hostile ‘white neighborhood’ in which literally howling mobs surrounded our house. One of their missiles almost took the life of the then eight-year old signer of this letter. My memories of this ‘correct’ way of fighting white supremacy in America include being spat at, cursed and pummeled in the daily trek to and from school. And I also remember my desperate and courageous mother, patrolling our household all night with a loaded German Luger [pistol], doggedly guarding her four children, while my father fought the respectable part of the battle in the Washington court.”
– quoted from To Be Young, Gifted, and Black: Lorraine Hansberry in Her Own Words by Lorraine Hansberry (adapted by Robert Nimroff, with an introduction by James Baldwin)
Unlike Johns and Malcolm, Lorraine was college educated. She attended the University of Wisconsin-Madison where she became active in the Communist Party (much to the chagrin of her mother – her father had died of a cerebral hemorrhage when she was 15) and desegregated a dormitory. After graduating from college, she moved to New York and started writing for the Black (and Pan-African) newspaper Freedom, under the tutelage of people who had frequented her childhood home, like W. E. B. Du Bois, Paul Robeson, and Langston Hughes (whose poem “Harlem” provided the inspiration for the title of her award winning play). Her work at Freedom not only inspired her to write plays and poems, it also gave her exposure and opportunity.
Some of that exposure and opportunity resulted in an FBI security file being started when she was 22. A year later, she was put under surveillance because she started making plans to attend a 1953 peace conference in Montevideo. Three years later her “Italian” haircut was suspicious and a year before the Broadway premiere of A Raisin in the Sun, FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover ordered New York’s Special Agent in charge to “[p]romptly conduct [a] necessary investigation in an effort to establish whether the play…is in any way controlled or influenced by the Communist Party and whether it in any way follows the Communist line” and a Philadelphia Special Agent (who was an “expert” in such things) was ordered to actually attend a touring (pre-Broadway) performance and write a report. Like the majority the white audience with whom they watched the Walnut Street Theatre performance, the special agent missed a lot of the nuance and Pan-African messages picked up by the New York audiences (not to mention modern audiences).
Still, when all was said and done, no less than five – count them, 5!!!!! – FBI offices were engaged in investigations and surveillance of a not yet 30-year old playwright. And for all that power and energy, they seemed to have missed more than just the Pan-African messages in Lorraine’s critically acclaimed play.
“What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore—”
– quoted from the poem “Harlem” by Langston Hughes
Lorraine was briefly married to Robert Nemiroff, a Jewish theatre producer, songwriter, book editor, publisher, and activist. They spent their wedding night protesting the execution of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg (who were accused of being spies for the Soviet Union) and she would often credit him as being one of her creative muses. Even after their divorce (and his second marriage), they maintained a professional relationship and he became her literary executor after her death of pancreatic cancer (3rdchakra) at the age of 34.
In addition to producing a variety of incarnations of A Raisin in the Sun (and some of her other finished works), Nemiroff compiled some of Lorraine’s writings into the autobiographical play To Be Young, Gifted, and Black and the book of (essentially) the same name. In 1964, he donated her personal and professional papers to the New York Public Library – but restricted access to all journals, letters, essays, and articles related to the fact that she was a (once closeted) lesbian who supported LGBTQIA+ civil rights. (Ironically, even though Lorraine lived the last few years of her life out, to some, she may not have been out to the FBI.) Over a decade after Nemiroff’s death, his daughter (Joi Gresham, from his second marriage) lifted the restrictions so that they could be included in research about Lorraine’s life and legacy.
That legacy not only included a commitment to encouraging young writers and supporting the civil rights of Blacks and LGBTQIA+ Americans, but also the basic human rights of all people in the world. She was a fan of the work of Simone de Beauvoir; believed that women who were “twice oppressed” needed to be “twice militant;” and publicly condemned the United States’ bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
“Write if you will: but write about the world as it is and as you think it ought to be and must be—if there is to be a world. Write about all the things that men have written about since the beginning of writing and talking—but write to a point. Work hard at it, care about it. Write about our people: tell their story. You have something glorious to draw on begging for attention. Don’t pass it up. You have something glorious to draw on begging for attention. Don’t pass it up. Use it. Good luck to you. The Nation needs your gifts.”
– quoted from the speech “To Be Young, Gifted, and Black” by Lorraine Hansberry (given to Readers Digest / United Negro College Fund creative writing contest winners, New York City, May 1, 1964)
At the beginning of the practice (and this blog post), I asked you how your life was like (or not like a puzzle) – which takes us back the cube* and its inventor. Ernö Rubik once said, “If you are curious, you’ll find the puzzles around you. If you are determined, you will solve them.”
All three of the people profiled above shared a problem, a problem we also share: How do we find create a society that lives up to its legendary origin story? We each have our experiences – which result in certain perspectives – and we each have certain gifts, which we can share with the world. To share our gifts, however, we sometimes have to understand what shapes our perspectives – and what shapes the perspectives of the people around us. To understand what shapes us, we have to go deeper into the core and how we’re all connected.*
Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.
“HOEDERER: …. I wasn’t the one who invented lying. It grew out of a society divided into classes, and each one of us has inherited it from birth. We shall not abolish lying by refusing to tell lies, but by using all means at hand to abolish classes.
HUGO: All means are not good.
HOEDERER: All means are good when they are effective.”
– quoted from Act 5 of the play Les Mains sales (Dirty Hands) by Jean-Paul Sartre, premiered in Paris on April 2, 1948 (by 1963, the American English translation of “Ce n´est pas en refusant de mentir que nous abolirons le mensonge : c´est en usant de tous les moyens pour supprimer les classes.” had become a mirror of Frantz Fanon’s 1960 declaration to end colonialism)
Errata: In going back through my notes, I realized that I made several mistakes during the Zoom classes. Those are corrected above, including any misstatement about Johns Hopkins birth year and any misquoting of my yoga-buddy and fellow teacher Sandra Razieli.
*NOTE: Using the cube as an underlying metaphor for race and gender relations in the United States is a bit problematic, I know. And, before anybody suggests taking all the stickers off – so color doesn’t matter – let me just say, “Nope.” The metaphor doesn’t need to be perfect; especially when you consider that the critical element here is how things are working on the inside.
Some formatting updated, May 2025. The embedded video is currently private.
[This post is related to the Common Ground Zoom practice on Monday, May 17th. You can request an audio recording of Monday’s 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.
Patricia Rayborn has written several books and essays about race, religion, family expectations, and Oswald Chambers, who asked, “Would I recognize God if He came in a way that I was not prepared for?”
Another way to phrase that is: “Would you recognize the Dharma (Dhamma) if it came in a way that you were not prepared for?” (Or, not expecting?)
Keeping all that in mind, if you have a moment, I invite you to participate in a little exercise. It is an exercise in svādyāya (“self-study”), partially inspired by a visualization exercise guided by Shelly Graf, Associate Director of Common Ground Meditation Center on Sunday. While they had some teachers, staff, and volunteers from the center visualizing, imagining, a future moment, on Monday I used it to guide people back… to some past moments.
“Hey, you know, everybody’s talkin’ about the good old days, right Everybody’s talkin’ the good old days, the good old days Well, let’s talk about the good old days Come to think of it as, as bad as we think they are these will become the good old days for our children, so um Why don’t we, ah… Try to remember…”
– quoted from the intro to the song medley “The Way We Were / Try to Remember” by Gladys Knight& The Pips
Take a moment to get comfortable. Make sure that your breath is deep. Then, imagine your “first day of school.” It can be the first day of school that you remember – which may not actually be the first time you went to a school outside of your home. Conversely, maybe it was your first day at a new school; maybe your first day of school in a new state or even in a new country. Just take a moment, maybe even read this and then close your eyes, and remember what you were wearing and how you felt.
Think about how you got to school: Was it in your neighborhood or somewhere else? Did you walk? Ride a bus? (If so, was it a school bus or public transit? Do you remember what the driver looked like, or even their name?) Did one of your parents drive you (or in some other way accompany you)?
Keep going. What about the other students? How did they look? What were they wearing? Who was your first friend? Or the first person you met that didn’t become your friend? What did your favorite teacher look like? What about your least favorite teacher? What about your principal and assistant principal? Do you remember any of the other staff?
Take a moment to soak up that imagery. Now, imagine the first day of school for your child or a child with whom you are very familiar. Can you visualize the answers to the same questions?
How different is/was their experience from your experience? How many years passed in between?
“Discernment is God’s call to intercession, never to fault finding.”
– quoted from “May 3 – Vital Intercession” in My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers (although it is also often attributed to Corrie ten Boom)
At the beginning of Monday’s Common Ground practice on Zoom, I guided nine people through this exercise (after ascertaining that, between the 10 of us, we had gone to school in 14 states within 2 countries. (I didn’t count the cities, but it was more than 14). I didn’t ask anyone’s age, but my guess is that there was at least one person in the group in their 20’s, several of us in our 50’s, and possibly someone (or two) in their 60’s – and then some in between. And, while there were some overlaps in states, there was some diversity… in the states and in the people.
Suffice to say, if we had talked about it afterwards, we would have shared some similar experiences and some really different experiences. Yet, there we were, all on Zoom, sharing an experience. More to the point: having the resources to share the experience.
And yet, each of us experienced the exercise and the practice in different ways, because of our previous experiences – include those school experiences. More importantly, those school experiences are part of the foundation through which we experience all of our current experiences – even when we share them.
Consider that even when we don’t think about this foundation – and how it influences us – it still plays a part in how we are currently moving through the world. It also plays a part in how we interact with people who had different school experiences – or we perceive to have had different childhood experiences from us. It plays a part in how we make friends (and, to a certain degree, if we make friends with people outside of our first family, tribe, and community of birth). It also plays a part in how we see ourselves (and how we understand our place in the world).
Lack of awareness about those differences – or assumptions about those differences, can create conflict. It can also compound conflict; especially when we are not aware of our preconceived notions and/or biases. Lack of awareness can increase the suffering we experience and inflict, as well as prevent us from alleviating our own suffering.
“When they won, it set a lasting legal precedent. [Linda] Brown was attending an integrated junior high school by then, and she later recalled the initial desegregation of local elementary schools going smoothly. But over the course of her life, she saw the reality of school integration fall short, locally and nationally.”
– quoted from the 2018 Chalkbeat article entitled “In her own words: Remembering Linda Brown, who was at the center of America’s school segregation battles” by Sarah Darville (posted May 27, 2018)
Monday, May 17, was the anniversary of the landmark United States Supreme Court case known as Brown v. Board of Education. In getting ready for the practice, I experienced a little sadness that we are not further along as a country (when it comes to racial and class disparities, as well as gender inequality). I experienced a little anger that, throughout this pandemic, we saw those disparities in who was able to show up for virtual classes and who was walking to their school yard (or a restaurant or Apple store) so they could use the internet. And, while I admire local business owners and wealthy celebrities who support the school systems in their areas, I can’t help but be frustrated that (a) private citizens seem to be doing more than our municipalities (or federal government) and (b) that the private citizens who seem to do the most are those who are most aware of the disparities because they lived them.
Yes, I was feeling sad, angry, and frustrated – even a little judge-y. What I wasn’t feeling was a ton of gratitude. However Brown v. Board of Education, while more symbolic than practical (and apply-able) in 1954 (let alone 1955), was a “first step” for which I personally do feel grateful. In getting in touch with the feeling of gratitude – without dismissing or suppressing those other feelings – I thought about Shelly’s exercise. And I decide to go back. But, I didn’t want to go back in order to pass judgement on anyone’s experience. Instead, I wanted to simply raise awareness around our individual experiences (and maybe consider how we would feel if we walked in Linda Brown’s shoes).
During the practice, I mentioned the details of all three Brown cases (which you can read about in my 2020 blog post) and the ways in which (energetically speaking) we house and process our life experiences. Of course, no discussion about Brown would be complete without referencing Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall (who was then serving as the NAACP’s chief counsel).
“None of us got where we are solely by pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps. We got here because somebody – a parent, a teacher, an Ivy League crony or a few nuns – bent down and helped us pick up our boots.”
– Supreme Court Justice (and former NAACP chief counsel) Thurgood Marshall referencing his SCOTUS successor in a Newsweek interview (dated October 28, 1991)
There is no playlist for the Common Ground practice. (However, I did post a “Brown” playlist in 2020.)
This is the post Sunday, May 16th. 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.
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.)
“‘Bhikkhus, I could tell you in many ways about the animal kingdom, so much so that it is hard to find a simile for the suffering in the animal kingdom. Suppose a man threw into the sea a yoke with one hole in it, and the east wind carried it to the west, and the west wind carried it to the east, and the north wind carried it to the south, and the south wind carried it to the north. Suppose there were a blind turtle that came up once at the end of each century. What do you think, bhikkhus [monks]? Would that blind turtle put his neck into that yoke with one hole in it?’
Bhikkhus: ‘He might, venerable sir, sometime or other at the end of a long period.’
‘Bhikkhus, the blind turtle would take less time to put his neck into that yoke with a single hole in it than a fool, once gone to perdition, would take to regain the human state, I say. Why is that? Because there is no practicing of the Dhamma there, no practicing of what is righteous, no doing of what is wholesome, no performance of merit. There mutual devouring prevails, and the slaughter of the weak.’”
– quoted from “The Animal Kingdom” in Majjhima Nikāya 129, Balapandita Sutta: Fools and Wise Men
Don’t ask me why, because I can give you a hundred reasons, but I always seem to “mis-remember” a certain Buddhist story. I mix up the details of the story – I have heard that other teachers (greater teachers than me) do the same. In my case, the blind turtle becomes a dolphin who likes to play; another teacher makes the piece of driftwood a golden ring, heavy enough to sink down to the bottom of the sea (only to get churned back up again). Additionally, I have heard others say that the convergence of the ring and the sea creature happens every hundred years, every thousand years, every five billion years, or a kalpa (based on Hindu and/or some Buddhist texts). But, be all that as it may, the purpose of the story doesn’t change: it highlights the odds of being born (or reborn) into a human existence and the preciousness of human life. And, just as the purpose of the story doesn’t change, neither does the driving compulsion to tell the story – even when one mixes up the details.
While we are on the subject of details, take a moment to consider the details of your life. Consider your unique experiences, thoughts, words, deeds, and relationships. Back in 2016, Dr. B. B. Cael, who was then a graduate student in the MIT-WHOI Joint Program (Massachusetts Institute of Technology and The Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution), calculated that the probability of a blind sea turtle randomly rising up so that it’s head poked through a hole in a piece of drift wood was 7.2 x 10^-16 and the probability of a human being (who is going to be reincarnated) coming back as another human was 6.5 x 10^-16. Now, all of that is just random – without any consideration to specific details like in which body of water the creature rise or what month or what year. Imagine if you will, the probability of you… or me…or anyone we know actually existing as we do. It is miraculous and magnificent!
When I consider how magnificent and miraculous it all is, it reinforces my belief that we are all here for a purpose: a divine purpose. Or, at the very least, that our lives should have a purpose; that we should live a purpose-driven life.
“Find your struggle, learn your lesson, and then know your purpose.”
– a “Monaism” (saying by Mona Miller, as quoted by Seane Corn)
Mona Miller was the teacher of one of my teachers, Seane Corn. Like me, like Seane, like pretty much every teacher who regularly guides a group of people, Mona had things she was known for saying. Her students called those sayings, Monaisms, and the one above reminds me of Marcus Aurelius’ stoic belief that the obstacle is the way. It is also a perfect recipe for being driven and staying driven. After all, we all have struggles, strife, challenges, discomfort, suffering, and disease – and we all want (and deserve) relief from that which ails us. If we take a moment, just a moment, to reflect on what ails us we start to realize four very salient facts:
We are not the only person suffering.
Someone else has, is, and will suffer as we are suffering.
How we deal with our suffering can alleviate suffering or cause more suffering (in ourselves and others).
How we deal with our suffering can inspire others as they deal with their suffering.
“Sanklapa goes beyond just intention. Sankalpa truly cares for the impact.”
– Embrace Yoga’s Roots: Courageous Ways to Deepen Your Practice by Susanna Barkataki
Our ritual of setting an intention and “dedicating” our practice is similar to the Buddhist tradition of “dedicating of the merit” and is rooted in the fifth niyama (“internal observation”), Īśvarapraņidhāna, which is offering our efforts back to the source. The underlying idea in these practices is the very definition of karma yoga as outlined in The Bhagavad Gita (2.31 – 2.51): that we should do our best and work without desire, because the work we do is our “personal duty in life (one’s sva-dharma).”
On Saturday, we go a little deeper by practicing with a sankalpa. The Sanskrit word can be translated into English as “will,” “determination,” and “(the highest) vow.” However, as Susanna Barkataki points out, there is no English word that encompasses the complete and true meaning. Part of the problem with the English translations is that we don’t have one word for something that simultaneously compels us, fuels us, and motivates us. We don’t have an English word for something that consciously embed so deeply into our fiber that it unconsciously starts determining how we live, think, speak, and act. Even “purpose” has to be “driven.”
Of course, these practices require a certain level of trust, a certain level of faith, or – at the very least – a certain level of hopeful desire that what benefits us will also benefit others. One way I frame this is to think of each of us is being like every hero in every culture’s hero’s journey. Accordingly, our work in the world will result in a boon that benefits the world. This is true whether we look at our life (and life purpose) through the lens of our occupation, vocation, and/or avocation. This is true whether we have all the advantages or all the disadvantages. This is true whether people expect us to succeed or whether we are viewed as the underdog. Either way, how we show up in the world matters, because we matter.
“That grain of salt You talk about Gets bigger and bigger each day It’s making a pearl Inside my heart With layer and layers of tears I’d give you this pearl To save our hearts”
– quoted from the song “Grain of Salt” by John Doe
I have a lot of favorite metaphors about how we can deal with hardship and challenges. One of my favorites is what happens when an oyster, clam, or other shelled mollusks gets a bit of salt, sand, or debris inside of its shell. Since the mollusk doesn’t have fingers and opposable thumbs it can use to root around and remove the irritating object, it begins to lave the object with its natural secretion. Over and over again, the shell creature coats the object until it is smooth (and iridescent) and no longer irritating. The end result is something we humans often find valuable.
Of course, I’m going to discourage anyone from getting an actual pearl to remind them of this metaphor, because it is (in a practical sense) an imperfect metaphor. While the mollusk finds a non-violent way to end its suffering, the harvesting of the pearl (especially in a commercial sense) usually requires killing the shelled creature. In the case of cultured pearls, someone intentionally places the irritating object in the shell (hence causing suffering) and then kills the mollusk or, if it can be “irritated” again, places it back in the water to go through more suffering. Hence why, when I use the metaphor, I focus more on what the mollusk has to teach us than what we teach ourselves.
It is, however, important to remember that we are teaching ourselves. In other words, we are teaching each other. The way we think, speak, act, and live our lives is a lesson to others – and especially to the children around us. I know there are a lot of celebrities who consistently proclaim that they are not role models. Yet, each of us is a living example; each of us is modeling behavior – and the children around us are watching and learning. They are learning from their parents, grandparents, their teachers, their coaches, their neighbors, their world leaders, and the siblings of all of the above. They are also learning from each other. And what is more important than the words someone tells them is the lived example that they observe.
“Pighla de zanjeerein [Melt the shackles]
Bana unki shamsheerein [and make swords out of them]
Kar har maidaan fateh o bandeya [Win every battlefield, overcome all your limitations/restrictions”]
– quoted from the song “Kar Har Maidaan Fateh” by Shreya Ghoshal and Sukhwinder Singh
The 2018 film Sanju is based on the real life story of a Bollywood actor, Sanjay Dutt (portrayed by Ranbir Kapoor). Called “Sanju” by his mother, the actor experienced a series of personal crises intertwined with political crises and a downward spiral that resulted in him dealing with his losses, challenges, and conflicts in the some of the most dysfunctional/afflicted ways possible. He turned to drugs and alcohol, and became addicted – which, of course, led to more suffering. In a song that is featured in the movie, and in the associated video, Manisha Koirala appears as a vision of Nargis, Sanju’s mother, encouraging him to live a better life.
In keeping with the language found in many sacred texts from Asia, the song, “Kar Har Maidaan Fateh” refers to one’s struggles, challenges, and suffering as “shackles” or “chains.” The song instructs one to turn the very things that could defeat us into something that can help us overcome our struggles and win our personal battles. It speaks of the power of determination so strong that it overcomes bad luck; climbing onto “clouds of adversity” and grabbing “the collar of the difficult tough times – all in order to become special and “separate from the ordinary crowd.” The song specifically refers to “swords” (and even what can be accomplished with a “broken sword”), but consider other tools that one can use to overcome adversity.
Remember, Edward Bulwer-Lytton said, “The pen is mightier than the sword.” Remember the power of a sharp mind and what happens when you make your mind up to do something. Remember, too, that once a lesson is learned it continues to serve.
“If all the world is a classroom and every day of life is a lesson, then certainly your profession and workplace are included.
After all, He has unlimited ways to provide your livelihood, but He chose to direct you to this way of life.
What sparks of divine wisdom await you here?”
– quoted from Hayom Yom*, 9 Iyar
(*lit. “From Day to Day”); an anthology of aphorisms and customs, arranged according to the days of the year, assembled from the talks and letters of Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak of Lubavitch (1880-1950), sixth Lubavitch Rebbe; compiled by Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, seventh Lubavitch Rebbe. “Iyar” is the eighth month of the civil year and the second month of the Jewish religious year, based on the Hebrew calendar.
“Yo soy yo y mi circunstancia, y si no la salvo a ella no me salvo yo.”
[“I am I and my circumstance, and if I don’t save it I don’t save myself.”]
— quoted from Meditaciones del Quijote [Don Quixote Mediations] by José Ortega y Gasset
Thank you to everyone who supported the 8th annual Kiss My Asana yogathon. Mind Body Solutions made their goal (Woohooo!!!) and, as always, I am grateful for everyone that did yoga, shared yoga, and helped others.
“Dikhla de zinda hai tu [Show to everyone that you are still alive]
Baaqi hai tujhme hausla [and there is courage left in you…]”
“Tooti shamsheerein toh kya [So what if your sword is broken]
Tooti shamsheeron se hee [Even with this broken sword]
Kar har maidan fateh [Win all the battlefields…]”
“Teri koshishein hee kaamyaab hongi [your attempts, efforts will be successful]
Jab teri ye zidd aag hogi [when your insistence, attempts would turn into a burning desire]
Phoonk de na-umeediyan, na-umeediyan [Burn down all the hopeless, negativeness…]”
– quoted from the song “Kar Har Maidaan Fateh” byShreya Ghoshal and Sukhwinder Singh (with English translations)
“Nowruz Mubarak!” Happy New Year to those who are celebrating and Happy Spring to those in the Northern Hemisphere.
[This post is related to three Saturdays, March 6th; March 13th; and March 20th. You can request an audio recording of any of the practices 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.
“At a time of another crisis, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá offered these words of counsel: ‘In a day such as this, when the tempests of trials and tribulations have encompassed the world, and fear and trembling have agitated the planet, ye must rise above the horizon of firmness and steadfastness with illumined faces and radiant brows in such wise that, God willing, the gloom of fear and consternation may be entirely obliterated, and the light of assurance may dawn above the manifest horizon and shine resplendently.’ The world stands more and more in need of the hope and the strength of spirit that faith imparts. Beloved friends, you have of course long been occupied with the work of nurturing within groups of souls precisely the attributes that are required at this time: unity and fellow feeling, knowledge and understanding, a spirit of collective worship and common endeavour. Indeed, we have been struck by how efforts to reinforce these attributes have made communities especially resilient, even when faced with conditions that have necessarily limited their activities. Though having to adapt to new circumstances, the believers have used creative means to strengthen bonds of friendship, and to foster among themselves and those known to them spiritual consciousness and qualities of tranquillity, confidence, and reliance on God.”
– quoted from a rare “New Year” message from the Universal House of Justice “To the Bahá’is of the World,” dated Naw-Ruz 177 (March 20, 2020, in reference to COVID-19 recommendations)
Today, Saturday, March 20th, was the Vernal (or Spring) Equinox in the Northern Hemisphere – which coincides with Nowruz, also known as the Persian New Year or Iranian New Year, which is also the Zoroastrian and the Bahá’i New Year. Nowruz is a compound of two Persian words and literally means “new day.” As this is a new beginning for so many around the world, it feels like an auspicious time to start catching back up on my blog posts!
The date of this New Year (and of the Vernal Equinox) is established every year through the astronomical observations that result in the Solar Hijri (Persian) calendar, which is the oldest and most accurate solar calendar. Technically, the Bahá’i New Year started at sunset on Friday evening; but it is also a moveable based on the change in seasons.
In “the Most Holy Book” of the Bahá’i faith, the Kitáb-i-Agdas, the prophet Bahá’u’lláh explained that the equinox was a “Manifestation of God” and, therefore, would mark the new day/year. He also indicated that the actual date would be based on a “standard” place chosen by the Universal House of Justice (the nine-member ruling body of the worldwide community) in Haifa, Israel. In 2014 (which was year 171 in their community), the Universal House of Justice chose Tehran as the special place in the world that would serve as the observational standard. This is year 178.
People within the Bahá’i community spend the last month of the year preparing for the New Year by observing the 19-Day Fast. Throughout various parts of Asia, the Caucasus, the Black Sea Basin, and the Balkans people from a variety of faiths have traditions which sometimes include a month’s worth of (preparatory) celebrations. These celebrations include “spoon-banging” and costumed visitors in a practice similar to Halloween’s trick-or-treaters; rituals related to light; a celebration of the elements; a celebration of ancestors; and stories about how light (literally and symbolically) overcomes darkness.
“But his splendid son, Jamshid, his heart filled with his father’s precepts, then prepared to reign. He sat on his father’s throne, wearing a golden crown according to the royal custom. The imperial [divine glory] was his. The world submitted to him; quarrels were laid to rest, and all demons, birds and fairies obeyed Jamshid’s commands. The royal throne shone with luster, and the wealth of the world increased. He said, ‘God’s glory is with me; I am both prince and priest. I hold evildoers back from their evil, and I guide souls towards the light.’”
– quoted from “The First Kings” in Shanameh – The Persian Book of Kings by Abolqasem Ferdowsi (translated by Dick Davis)
One such story appears in the Shāhnāma (“The Book of Kings”), an epic Persian poem written by Abul-Qâsem Ferdowsi Tusione around the 10th and 11th centuries and one of the world’s longest poems attributed to a single author. According to the legend, there was a time when the world was plunged into darkness and a deadly winter that caused most people to lose hope. However, the mythical King Jamshid, who spent over 100 years building a great kingdom, saved the world and restored hope by building a throne out of gems and precious metals. He then sat on the throne and had “demons” lift him up to catch the dying light so that he became as bright as the sun. More gems were gathered around him and he became even brighter. This became the “New Day.”
I often mention that every day, every inhale, and every exhale is the beginning of a New Year. We don’t often think of it that way, and we certainly don’t (as a whole) view and celebrate life that way. But, the bottom line is that every moment of our lives is a “liminal” moment: a transitional or threshold moment that serves as a doorway between times. We mark notice we have more daylight, more sunshine, and we call it “Spring!” But, in some ways, this moment is arbitrary because we have been getting more daylight since the Winter Solstice.
Sometimes, when the winter is really cold and really dark (or we’ve been cooped-up inside too much) we pay attention to the little incremental differences between one day and the next. We notice the lengthening shadows and the extra seconds. Most times, however, we don’t start noticing the changes until we are told to notice the changes. Even then, however, what we notice is the end result – the culmination of all the little changes; not the transitions themselves. In the Yoga Sūtras, Patanjali instructs us to pay attention to the transitions.
“The transition from one year to the next year happens in an infinitely short moment that is actually non-existent in time. So too, there are transitions in the moments of life and the moments of meditation. Mindfulness of transitions in daily life and during meditation time is extremely useful on the spiritual journey to enlightenment.”
– quoted from the commentary on “Yoga Sutras 3.9-3.16: Witnessing Subtle Transitions With Samyama” by Swami Jnaneshvara Bharati (“Swami J”)
When detailing how the practice of “concentration” “progresses,” Patanjali explores the final three limbs of the Yoga Philosophy (dhāranā, dhyāna, and samādhi) and refers to them collectively as samyama. Once he explains how each one flows from the previous ones (all stemming from the earlier practices of prāņāyāma and pratyāhāra) – and cautions against efforts to skip the stages of progression – he delineates the difference between external and internal experiences. We often think of these as being very obviously related to things that are happening outside of the body and/or separate from us versus things happening inside the body and/or directly related to us. We may even break things down as things we can touch/hold versus things that are not tangible.
Obvious, right? But what happens when we “Get Inside” (as we did on Saturday, March 6th)?
Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni, the artist, was born March 6, 1475, in Caprese (then the Republic of Florence and now Tuscany, Italy). Known for works like David, the Pietá, and some of the most well-known frescoes in the Sistine Chapel, Michelangelo was known as Il Divino (“The Divine One”) by his contemporaries, because he had the ability to bring inanimate objects to life and to create terribilitá (a sense of awesomeness or emotional intensity). He said, “Every block of stone has a statue inside it and it is the task of the sculptor to discover it.” He also said, “I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.”
In the practice of Yoga, we use the first four limbs of the philosophy the way Michelangelo used his carving and painting tools: to bring what is inside out, to set our inner angel free. Or, as I mentioned on the 6th, we can use it to set our inner GOAT free.
“‘He who is not courageous enough to take risks will accomplish nothing in life.’”
– quoted from the Ebony Magazine article, “Muhammad Ali: ‘Don’t Count Me Out’ – Despite his medical problems, ‘The Greatest’ says there is plenty of fight left in his body” by Walter Leavy (published March 1985)
In 1964, it was announced to the world that the boxer we now know as The Greatest of All Times would no longer go by his birth name or “slave name” – which was also his father’s name. The heavy-weight champion’s grandfather had named his son (Cassius Marcellus Clay, Sr.,) after a 19th-century abolitionist politician in Kentucky (Cassius Marcellus Clay) who, by some accounts, strong-armed President Abraham Lincoln to emancipate Confederate slaves and freed some of his own slaves in 1844, but still kept some slaves on hand. Muhammad Ali wanted to distance himself from that legacy of slavery and forge his own path; so, he chose a name that reflected his faith and his skills: Muhammad Ali.
The name change wasn’t even close to instantaneous. In fact, with the major exception of Howard Cosell, who coincidentally had changed his own last name back to his family’s original Polish surname, most journalists and media outlets continued to refer to the prizefighter as “Cassius Clay” for over a decade. And it wasn’t just a matter of people getting use to the new name. Because he refused to answer to his birth name, journalist would address him as Muhammad Ali in-person, but then write about “Cassius Clay.” By their own account, The New York Times wrote about over 1,000 articles about “Cassius Clay” from 1964 to 1968, but only referenced “Muhammad Ali” in about 150. This practice continued well into the 1970’s! But the practice wasn’t even consistent; the media seemed to have no problem referencing “Malcolm X” – even though, at the time, he was still legally “Malcolm Little.”
Muhammad means “One who is worthy of praise” and Ali means “Most high.” The names, as he clearly stated, were symbolic in nature – as all names are. By changing his name, Muhammad Ali honored his outside (i.e., the color of his skin) while also placing emphasis on the inside (i.e., his talent and his beliefs). He also gave the world tools to focus on the inside and to become more intimate. Sadly, some folks kept themselves stuck on the outside.
Yoga Sūtra 3.7: trayam antarangam pūrvebhyah
– “These three practices of concentration (dhāranā), meditation (dhyāna), and samādhi are more intimate or internal than the previous five practices.”
Patanjali devotes a series of “threads” to the distinctions between internal/intimate and external in order to illustrate that perspective can make something that feels internal feel “external” simply because there is something more “internal.” One great example of this can be illustrated by comparing different types of physical practices of yoga. For instances: A vinyāsa practice (because it is a moving practice) is more “yang” or active than a YIN Yoga practice (in which part of the practice is not moving for what can feel like an incredibly long amount of time). On the flip side, the Primary Series of Ashtanga Yoga can be significantly more “yang” or active than a “Slow Flow” and a Restorative Yoga practice can be significantly more “yin” than a YIN yoga practice.
By the same token, focusing on the breath and the awareness of the breath begins to feel more internal than just moving the body without breath awareness, but the former begins to feel more external when you can concentrate without actively thinking about the fact that you are concentrating on your breath (or anything else). In other words, the object of focus is the “seed” – something tangible and understandable, with a reference point. Then, there is a point in the practice when the focus becomes “seedless” – at which point being “Deeper Inside Makes That ‘Outside’” (which was our thread on Saturday, March 13th).
Yoga Sūtra 3.8: tad api bahir-angam nirbījasya
– “These three practices are external, and not intimate compared to nirbija samadhi, which is samadhi that has no object, nor even a seed object on which there is concentration.”
In our physical practice, more often than not, we use the breath as our primary “seed.” At first we may simultaneously engage it on multiple levels. After all, we can feel it, we can direct it, and (under the proper conditions) we can see it. Eventually, however, we become absorbed in the experience of breathing and being alive – which is obviously a different experience than actively working with the breath, but it is also a different experience than breathing and living without being aware of the breath. I often think about the breathing (and awareness of breath) of someone like Joseph Priestley, just as I think about the breathing (and awareness of breath) of those three people who left footprints on the side of a mountain in Italy over 350,000 years ago.
On March 13, 2003, Nature Journal published the work of three paleontologists who had identified fossilized footprints (and handprints) as belonging to three homo-genus individuals fleeing the then-actively erupting Roccamonfino volcano. Through those external impressions (embedded deep in the earth), we get an intimate glimpse into a brief moment of their lives. We know two fled the volcano together, one assisting the other. We know about their pace and trajectory, based on the zigzag patterns and the places where it appears one or more supported themselves with their hands. We can use their steps as tools and then, based on our own experiences, move deeper from there.
Joseph Priestley, born March 13, 1733 (according to the Julian calendar) was an 18th-century English theologian, clergyman, natural philosopher, chemist, educator, liberal political theorist, and a member of the Lunar Circle (also known as the Lunar Society). He is credited with discovering oxygen in its isolated gaseous state (which he considered “dephlogisticated air”). He also inventing soda water – which, he believed, could cure scurvy and which he called “impregnated water.” He also believed science was integral to theology and, therefore, all of his scientific work was a reflection of his liturgical work, and vice versa.
Even though much of what Joseph Priestley believed, scientifically speaking, has been superseded by advancements in technology and science, his work is one of the steps that brought us closer to the knowledge we have now. Think of his phlogiston theories as “seeds” at the beginning of the process. Now, consider, how – having moved beyond that point of understanding – we start anew… and go deeper. (As we did today, March 20th.)
“Could we have entered into the mind of Sir Isaac Newton and have traced all the steps by which he produced his great works, we might see nothing very extraordinary in the process.”
– Joseph Priestley
This week’s “threads” can be a little hard to take in just from the sūtras themselves. However, the point is to experience them and, once we have experienced them (in context) we realize they are easier to understand. There are some really great analogies related to movement and transition – which is the whole point of these threads – but the one that came to mind today takes us back to the boat analogy.
Take a moment to imagine your breath as a wave, with you floating on your back or floating in a boat. It doesn’t matter if you are lazily enjoying some time off or in a rush to go somewhere. Either way, there are times when you will have to make an adjustment – a course correction, if you will. Sometimes, you have to make big adjustments in order to stay focused; other times, little adjustments. Every now and again, however, there is a moment where you don’t need to make any adjustments or modifications. You don’t have to peddle to stay afloat and you don’t have to steer yourself in the right direction. You are one with the waves, going with the flow and “in the zone.” This is the next level of the Yoga experience.
– “When the vision of the lower Samadhi is suppressed by an act of conscious control, so that there are no longer any thoughts or visions in the mind, that is the achievement of control of the thought-waves of the mind.”
Yoga Sūtra 3.10: tasya praśānta-vāhitā samskārāt
– “When this suppression of thought waves becomes continuous, the mind’s flow is calm.”
The playlist for Saturday, March 6th (the “Getting Inside or ‘What Is Inside, IV’” practice) is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “09132020 What Is Inside, II”]
The playlist for Saturday, March 13th (the “Deeper Inside Makes That ‘Outside’” practice) is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “10202020 Pratyahara”]
The playlist for Saturday, March 20th (the “New Year, New Season” class) is available on YouTube and Spotify.
“Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they’ve been given than to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact. It’s an opinion. Impossible is not a declaration. It’s a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary.
Impossible is nothing.”
– quoted from a 2004 Adidas ad campaign written by Aimee Lehto (with final tag line credited to Boyd Croyner), often attributed to Muhammad Ali
Many blessings to those observing Lent or the 19-Day Fast!
[This is the post for Saturday, February 27th. You can request an audio recording of Saturday’s 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.
“This can already be seen in the different reception given a new citizen of the world. If the father or someone else asked what ‘it’ was after a successful birth, the answer might be either the satisfied report of a boy, or—with pronounced sympathy for the disappointment— ‘Nothing, a girl,’ or ‘Only a girl.’”
– Bertha Pappenheim as quoted in The Jewish Woman: New Perspectives, edited by Elizabeth Koultun
Imagine that, at a very early age, you are exposed to an idea. It doesn’t have to be a big idea, stated and codified in a systematic way. It could just be a statement. It could just be an idea (or a statement) about age, gender, race, ethnicity, religious and/or political beliefs – it could even be an idea about height or weight or hair texture (or length) or skin and/or eye hue. In the moment that you are exposed to the idea, some part of you questions whether it is true and even considers the validity of the idea/statement based on the source. You may not be conscious of this questioning, but it happens – sometimes quickly, in a blink – and then, as you move forward, other things (and people) either confirm the veracity or the idea or invalidate the idea.
Now, imagine that you grow up with this idea and this idea, whether you feel it is directed at you or at people around you, becomes – on a certain level – the lens through which you view yourself and the world. You may not be conscious of this lens. In fact, in most cases, this bias (whether we view it as positive or negative) is unconscious… subterranean. In the Yoga Philosophy, samskaras are mental impressions and they are the foundation or roots of our thoughts, words, and deeds. Neurologically speaking, we can think of them as hard-wired pathways that are such an integral part of us they make habitual responses to certain situations appear instinctual. They are the beginning of the best of us… and also the worst of us.
“The conscious mind may be compared to a fountain playing in the sun and falling back into the great subterranean pool of subconscious from which it rises.”
– Sigmund Freud, as quoted in his New York Times obituary (09/24/1939)
We all know that if we want to get to the root of a problem, we have to start at the surface – or start with what we can see – and dig deep. This is obvious, but it’s not easy. It’s not easy because, even knowing this very basic principle about where things begin, we can easily get distracted by fruit flies, rotting trunks, fungi, and beings throwing things at us from the tree limbs because we have worn out our welcome. We can just as easily get caught up in the beauty of the blossoms and the promise of a swing. We can also get defeated by all the work/effort that it takes to get to the bottom of things.
However, being distracted (or defeated) doesn’t change the fact that to get to the bottom of something, we have to literally get to the bottom of something. It also doesn’t change the fact that if we want to grow or build something, that has a chance of withstanding the changing of the times, we have to build from the ground up. Nor does it change the fact the fact that when we run into a problem – as we build a life, a business, and/or a home – we may not have to tear everything down and start over from scratch; but we do have to trace back from the top to the bottom.
This very basic principle is the reason why existential therapists, like Virginia Satir and Irvin Yalom said that the “presenting issue,” “surface problem,” and/or life’s “givens” were not the problem; rather, people’s problems are how they deal or cope with various elements in their lives. This is commonly understood today, but in the 1950’s and 1960’s these still groundbreaking theories. While modern psychotherapists (and even corporate change management specialists) continue to build on the efforts of those aforementioned therapists from the mid-1900’s, the roots of their work can be found in the work of Drs. Sigmund Freud and Josef Breuer and in the life and work of Bertha Pappenheim.
She would ultimately become a feminist, education organizer, activist, writer, and translator – whose work and life often appeared in newspapers. She would translate Mary Wollstonecraft’s The Vindication of the Rights of Women; the Western Yiddish memoirs of her own ancestor, Glückel of Hamelnl; the “Women’s Talmud; and other Old Yiddish texts (written for and/or by women) into German. She also founded organizations like Jüdischer Frauenbund (JFB, the Jewish Women’s Association); served as the first president of JFB and a board member of Bund Deutscher Frauenvereine (BDF, Federation of German Women’s Associations), when JFB joined the national organization; and also as director of an orphanage for Jewish girls that was run by Israelitischer Frauenverein (Israelite Women’s Association). She even appeared onstage as her ancestor in a play (that she produced) based on her Glückel’s memoirs. But before she made a name for herself through her efforts to improve the conditions and the world around her – especially the living and working conditions of the women and girls around her, Bertha Pappenheim was known to the psychoanalysis world as “Anna O” or “Only A Girl,” because of the work she did to improve her internal conditions.
“Other details of Glückel’s life story doubtless also held great appeal for Pappenheim. As a survivor of mental illness and the inventor of the ‘talking cure,’ Pappenheim may also have been intrigued by Glückel’s disclosure that she started her memoirs as a sort of ‘writing cure’ to ward off ‘melancholy thoughts’ in the sleepless nights after her husband’s death.”
– quoted from Let Me Continue to Speak the Truth: Bertha Pappenheim as Author and Activist by Elizabeth Loentz
Born in Vienna on February 27, 1859, Bertha Pappenheim was the third daughter born into a wealthy and prestigious Jewish family, with Orthodox roots, and she was born knowing that her family and her community prized sons over daughters, boys over girls. She was raised as was appropriate for her station in life – learning needlepoint and multiple languages and attending a Roman Catholic girls’ school while observing Jewish holidays. At the same time, she had to deal with the understandable emotions that came from knowing that one of her older sisters died in adolescence (before Pappenheim was born) and then experiencing the death of the second sister in adolescence (when Pappenheim was eight). Then there was the normal stress that occurred when her family moved into a primarily improvised neighborhood (when she was eleven); the expected jealousy she felt when her younger brother went to high school (even though she had to leave school at sixteen, despite her curious mind, because of the whole being a girl thing); and then that whole being “just a girl” thing that loomed like a specter over many of her experiences.
Notice, I use words like “understandable,” “normal,” and “expected” to describe Pappenheim’s emotions, but the reality is that her emotions were not recognized, acknowledged, nor honored as valid. In fact, as was common for the time and her station in life, her experiences were largely ignored… until there was a problem. Her “problems” initially presented themselves as physical and mental ailments: “a nervous cough, partial paralysis, severe neuralgia, anorexia, impaired sight and hearing, hydrophobia, frightening hallucinations, an alternation between two distinct states of consciousness, violent outbursts, and the inability to speak German, her native tongue.”
The presenting ailments started when her father became ill, when she was twenty-one, and worsened after her father died. She was diagnosed with “hysteria,” because… well, that was the most common diagnosis given to women at the time regardless of symptoms. As I mentioned on the anniversary of Freud’s birth, Breuer didn’t try to cure or “correct” the patient he would call Anna O. Instead, he started her under a new therapy he was trying out: he hypnotized her and encouraged her to talk in order to reveal the underlying causes of her symptoms. Pappenheim called it her “talking cure” or “chimney sweeping” and reported that it alleviated her symptoms. In theory (Breuer’s theory), it helped her get to the root of her problems.
“Psychoanalysis in the hands of the physician is what confession is in the hands of the Catholic priest. It depends on its user and its use, whether it becomes a beneficial tool or a two-edged sword.”
– Bertha Pappenheim (also known as “Anna O”)
Breuer’s “theory” became Freud’s “therapy.” But, take a moment to notice that these ideas about how the conscious, subconscious, and unconscious mind interact and manifest in our mind-body can actually be found in ancient texts like Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras, the Bhagavad Gita, and even the Ashtavakra Gita – texts on systems and processing “therapies” that predate the births of everyone mentioned above! Patanjali even described obstacles and ailments which match up with Bertha Pappenheim’s symptoms. (Also interesting to note is the fact that modern medical scientists and historians, after reviewing her case, have diagnosed Pappenheim with everything from “complex partial seizures exacerbated by drug dependence” to tuberculosis meningitis to temporal lobe epilepsy.) More important, even, than Pappenheim’s diagnosis is what she was able to achieve once she was able to get to (and address) the root of her problems.
In describing the methods of his therapy in The Interpretation of Dreams, Freud wrote, “The interpretation of dreams is the royal road to knowledge of the unconscious activities of the mind.” The entire system of the 8-Limbed Philosophy of Yoga is sometimes called “Rāja Yoga” (literally “king union” or “chief union”), which is understood as royal union. Given her background, Bertha Pappenheim might have equated it with the sefirot (or divine attribute) of Malchut, which is Queenship or Kingship on the Tree of Life and denotes mastery. While the system as a whole is full of tools for introspection, the ultimate tools are the last three limbs (dhāranā, dhyāna, samādhi) which combine to form the most powerful tool: Samyama, which is like a laser beam or a drill that lets you see beneath the surface.
Yoga Sūtra 3.4: trayam-ekatra samyama
– “Samyama is [the practice or integration of] the three together.”
Yoga Sūtra 3.5: taj-jayāt prajñālokah
– Through the mastery or achievement of Samyama comes higher consciousness or the light of knowledge.
Yoga Sūtra 3.6: tasya bhūmişu viniyogah
– It is to be applied or practiced in stages.
This week’s sūtras are not only instruction or guidance, but also a warning from Patanjali. In short, no matter how excited or anxious we may get about the powers and abilities that can be achieved through the practice, it is best not to rush the practice or skip steps. Perhaps Swami Prabhavananda and Christopher Isherwood summarized it best in their commentary when they wrote, “It is no use attempting meditation before we have mastered concentration. It is no use trying to concentrate upon subtle objects until we are able to concentrate on gross ones. Any attempt to take a short cut to knowledge of this kind is exceedingly dangerous.”
The dangers are relatively obvious when we are dealing with certain poses. For instance, we would be ill advised to a Sideways Floor Bow (Pārśva Dhanurāsana) if we have never practiced a regular Floor Bow (Dhanurāsana) – how would we even get into the pose?? And, it would not be very beneficial to attempt Floor Bow if a backbend like Locust (śalabhāsana) is not accessible. While we can easily see that in the physical example, it can be a little harder to see when it comes to concepts and ideas. For instance, when we see something wrong in the world and we can see the root of the problem, we may be in such a rush for other people to see what we see that we skip the steps that allow them to get it. Just as there is great power in the process, there is great power in being able to walk someone through the process.
“It only remains to say that his speech was devoid of all rhetorical imagery, with a marked suppression of the pyrotechnics of stump oratory. It was constructed with a view to the accuracy of statement, simplicity of language, and unity of thought. In some respects like a lawyer’s brief, it was logical, temperate in tone, powerful – irresistibly driving conviction home to men’s reasons and their souls.”
– quoted from Herndon’s Lincoln: The True Story of a Great Life (Volume 3) by William H. Herndon and Jesse William Weik
On February 27, 1860, the future President Abraham Lincoln gave a speech at Cooper Union for the Advancement of Science and Art. The address essentially walked people towards the roots of the problem of slavery and the opposition to ending slavery in the United States. He started with the Declaration of Independence and the “intention” of the Founding Fathers and then elucidated on the differences between Republican and Democratic views at that time. It was one of his longest speeches and one that required a great deal of research. Many historians agree the Cooper Union address solidified Lincoln’s selection as the Republican nominee for President and, possibly, clinched his win. It was even printed in the newspapers and distributed as part of his campaign. (William Herndon, Lincoln’s law partner at the time, stated that while it may not have actually taken campaign workers three weeks to fact check the speech – since most of the facts came from single set of sources – the fact checking was no small endeavor.)
Lincoln’s Cooper Union address has been described as “stunningly effective” and one of the “most convincing political arguments ever made in [New York] City. It did not, however, convince everyone; perhaps, in part, because while he went towards the roots, he didn’t really get to the bottom of the problem. The bottom of the problem being that, while the Founding Fathers recognized the problems and inhumanity of slavery, they compromised on the issue in order to gain the political leverage they needed to unanimously declare independence from Great Britain. Lincoln was also willing to compromise in a similar fashion; however, he was very adamant in his belief that the original compromise was enacted with an understanding that slavery would end on its own (as a natural evolution of the country’s development) and/or that the there were means available for the Federal Government to step in and make the change that was needed for the country to adhere to its founding principles.
“If any man at this day sincerely believes that a proper division of local from federal authority, or any part of the Constitution, forbids the Federal Government to control as to slavery in the federal territories, he is right to say so, and to enforce his position by all truthful evidence and fair argument which he can. But he has no right to mislead others, who have less access to history, and less leisure to study it, into the false belief that ‘our fathers who framed the Government under which we live’ were of the same opinion – thus substituting falsehood and deception for truthful evidence and fair argument. If any man at this day sincerely believes ‘our fathers who framed the Government under which we live,’ used and applied principles, in other cases, which ought to have led them to understand that a proper division of local from federal authority or some part of the Constitution, forbids the Federal Government to control as to slavery in the federal territories, he is right to say so. But he should, at the same time, brave the responsibility of declaring that, in his opinion, he understands their principles better than they did themselves; and especially should he not shirk that responsibility by asserting that they ‘understood the question just as well, and even better, than we do now.’”
– quoted from Abraham Lincoln’s address at Cooper Union for the Advancement of Science and Art, February 27. 1860 (during which he repeatedly quotes a statement by Senator Stephen Douglas)
Saturday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “05062020 What Dreams May Come”]
“This is the testimony of one who was present on that historic occasion: ‘When Lincoln rose to speak, I was greatly disappointed. He was tall, tall, – oh, how tall, and so angular and awkward that I had, for an instant, a feeling of pity for so ungainly a man. His clothes were black and ill-fitting, badly wrinkled – as if they had been jammed carelessly into a trunk. His bushy head, with the stiff black hair thrown back, was balanced on a long and lean head-stalk, and when he raised his hands in an opening gesture, I noticed that they were very large. He began in a low tone of voice – as if he were used to speaking out-doors, and was afraid of speaking too loud…. But pretty soon he began to get into his subject; he straightened up, made regular and graceful gestures; his face lighted up as with an inward fire; the whole man was transfigured. I forgot his clothes, his personal appearance, and his individual peculiarities. Presently, forgetting myself, I was on my feet like the rest, yelling…. When he reached the climax, the thunders of applause were terrific. It was a great speech. When I came out of the hall, my face was glowing with excitement and my frame all a-quiver, a friend with his eyes aglow, asked me what I thought of Abe Lincoln, the rail-splitter. I said: “He’s the greatest man since St. Paul.” And I think so yet.’”
– quoted from Abraham Lincoln and the Downfall American Slavery by Noah Brooks (published 1888)
MAKE SURE YOU’VE SAVED THE DATE! This Friday (March 5th) is the next “First Friday Night Special! Join me (7:15 PM – 8:20 PM, CST) to “give something up” / “let someone go.” Additional details are posted on the “Class Schedules” calendar!
### “The mind is like an iceberg, it floats with one-seventh of its bulk above water.” ~ SF, maybe ###
Happy New Year! Many blessings to those observing Lent!
[This is the post for Monday, February 22nd. You can request an audio recording of this 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 the center and its 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.]
“Having gone many paces ahead I stopped, panting for breath and laughing with glee as my mother watched my every movement. I was not wholly conscious of myself, but was more keenly alive to the fire within. It was as if I were the activity, and my hands and feet were only experiments for my spirit to work upon.”
– quoted from “Impressions of An Indian Childhood – I. My Mother” in American Indian Stories and Old Indian Legends by Zitkála-Šá
Bring your awareness to how we move our bodies – on and off the mat – and to how we shape our bodies. Bring your awareness to the physical practice, which is very much a case of art imitating life (and life imitating art). Consider that said “imitation” occurs through an understanding of the shapes and movements of life. Someone wondered, ‘What happens if I do this? Oh, look at the puppy doing that! I wonder how that would feel if I did it.’ They played, the explored, they experimented… and then they shared the practice that came from that play, exploration, and experimentation.
Even if you just think of the physical practice as movement for the body, you have to recognize that in order to engage the body, you have to also engage the mind – therefore, the practice is a mind-body exercise; it is physical and mental. It is also considered psychic and symbolic, as well as emotional and energetic. Emotional and energetic, I think, are self explanatory, especially as anyone who has practiced has probably experienced some shifting of emotions while and/or as a result of practicing; and the system of movement is based on an Ayurvedic energy mapping system of the mind-body. Just for clarification sake, we can think of psychic as being “[related to abilities] or phenomena that are apparently inexplicable by natural laws; supernormal; and relating to the soul and mind.” It is also important to remember that each pair goes hand – which means that the symbolic aspect of the practice is related to the supernormal aspects of the practice.
What does that mean?
Well, contrary to certain conspiracy theories, it doesn’t mean that people are (trying to) turn themselves into trees (or cobras, camels, eagles, dogs, and God). However, it is possible to embody certain qualities found in trees (or cobras, camels, eagles, dogs, and God). Before anyone gets too excited about the possibility of this being sacrilegious; consider that if you are a Christian who observes Lent, you are engaged in a physical-mental + psychic-symbolic + emotional-energetic “exercise” during which you symbolically place yourself in Jesus’ shoes. In other words, you embody Divine attributes in order to inform a more spiritual life on Earth.
Given this context, there are (of course) a number of poses that immediately spring to mind as being symbolic. Take a moment, however, to consider the trees as well as the forest, the details as well as the big picture. It’s not only the shapes that are symbolic; it’s also the movement that is symbolic. One of the most ancient gestures, one that is literally embedded in our bodies, is the lifting and opening of the heart when we are inspired and the settling into space (into the earth) that occurs when we expire. Yes, as we exaggerate our body’s natural tendencies, we are, in fact, engaging ancient symbolism. Furthermore, the power is not only in the movement; it’s in our understanding and recognition of the movement.
“This unique capacity has enabled us to develop written languages and preserve a vast range of memories pertaining to human experience.”
– commentary on Yoga Sutra 2.24 from The Practice of the Yoga Sutra: Sadhana Pada by Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, PhD
As I have mentioned before, the second of the six siddhis (or supernormal powers) “unique to being human” is shabda (“word” or “speech”), which Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, PhD explains as human’s ability “give a form to sound, assign meaning to each segment of sound, and to store both sound and its meaning in our memory….” and to share that sound and meaning, even in a visual form – like writing or sign language. In a nutshell, shabda is the ability to codify symbols. This power or ability can be funny (e.g., ironic), because we can use words (and get the essence of the meanings) without truly understanding the words. We can also find ourselves using and understanding the symbols, without actually using the words. For example, we can wave at someone and they know we are greeting them – even if we use two hands. However, if we are simultaneously waving both hands and crisscrossing them, then the person knows we are telling them to not come towards us and/or to stop what they are doing. It’s an ancient gesture. Kind of like wiping the sweat off of your brow… or wiping what appears to be a tear from your eye.
Today is the anniversary of two people who lived their lives in between cultures and cultural understanding. Two people who used their superpower of words to communicate what was getting lost in translation. Born today in 1892, Edna St. Vincent Millay was a poet who was considered a bit of a tomboy. Called “Vincent” by her family, friends, and teachers, her talent and her exuberance for life were evident from an early age and in many stories about her life. One such story, which describes both, relates how she was busted for basically hanging from a chandelier after claiming to be sick so that she could get out of a class. The teacher later said to her. “‘Vincent, you sent in a sick excuse at nine o’clock this morning and at ten o’clock I happened to look out the window of my office and you were trying to kick out the light in the chandelier on top of the Taylor Hall arch, which seemed a rather lively exercise for someone so taken with illness.’ Millay responded, ‘Prexy, at the moment of your class, I was in pain with a poem.’” Vincent spoke six languages, made friends with some of the great writers of her time, lived LOUD, and never let someone’s gender stop her from having a great love affair. Of course, some of her great loves ended in great drama and so she wrote about that.
“My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends – It gives a lovely light!”
– “First Fig” from A Few Figs from Thistles by Edna St. Vincent Millay (published, 1920)
Edna St. Vincent Millay’s talent as an author was recognized at an early age. She wrote blank verse and free verse and everything in between. Her work featured and was inspired by people she encountered in real life, as well as Biblical characters, fairy tales, classical literature. More often than not she captured the spirit of an undiscovered moment and gave people a peek at a different perspective. In 1921, she was basically given carte blanche to travel to Europe and write for Vanity Fair (under the byline Nancy Boyd). The editor’s expectation was, of course, that she would write the kind of poetry the magazine had already published – but there was no actual caveat or stipulation given and she ended up submitting satirical sketches. She also finished a five-act play commissioned by her alma mater, Vassar College. Her bibliography includes six “verse dramas,” including the libretto for the opera The King’s Henchman; short stories; and over a dozen collections of poetry – including The Ballad of the Harp-Weaver, for which she won the Pulitzer Prize in 1923 (becoming the first woman to do so). In 1943, she received the Robert Frost Medal “for distinguished lifetime achievement in American poetry.”
Vincent’s poem “An Ancient Gesture” was published in 1949 in The Ladies Home Journal (volume 66) and would appear in the collection Mine the Harvest after the poet’s death. In relatively few lines, it relates Homer’s Illiad and Odyssey, but with a discerning eye on Penelope rather than Odysseus / Ulysses. The poem describes a movement we have all done and which has been co-opted by politicians and liars since the beginning of humankind. It’s a movement, a gesture, we often take for granted and overlook. Part of the brilliance of the poem is that in describing the toll of taking charge of one’s own destiny, it also highlights the movement that symbolizes that toll and a moment of recognition. Therefore, it highlights a moment of power.
“I thought, as I wiped my eyes on the corner of my apron: Penelope did this too. And more than once: you can’t keep weaving all day And undoing it all through the night; Your arms get tired, and the back of your neck gets tight; And along towards morning, when you think it will never be light, And your husband has been gone, and you don’t know where, for years. Suddenly you burst into tears; There is simply nothing else to do.”
– quoted from the poem “An Ancient Gesture” by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Today is also the anniversary of the birth of Zitkála-Šá, born today in 1876 on the Yankton Indian Reservation, Dakota Territory. Her name means “Red Bird” in Lakota Sioux and she described herself as “a wild little girl… with a pair of soft moccasins on my feet, I was as free as the wind that blew my hair, and no less spirited than a bounding deer.” She was born into a tribe that had an early treaty with the United States and, therefore, was not decimated in the same way that some of the other Sioux tribes that were wiped out through direct conflict.
The treaty, however, did not mean that the Yanton Sioux lived in peace and with acceptance from the federal government. At the age of 8 she was, like so many First Nations children, taken by missionaries to a Quaker boarding school in Indiana. Such boarding schools in various parts of North America taught Indigenous children how to read and write English; how to speak, dress, and walk like the English; and how to engage with “polite society.” They were forced to convert to Christianity and to stop speaking the first languages. In other words, the schools’ curriculum was designed to teach the children how not to be Indian.
“There were 60 million American Indians in 1491. In the census, in 1910, there were 200,000. And a lot of that population loss is due to diseases: measles, smallpox, and so forth. For the colonizers who were greedy for Indian lands, there were two ways to get it: Either by killing people or by making them ‘non-Indians.’”
– P. Jane Hafen (Taos Pueblo), Professor Emirata of English, University of Nevada-Las Vegas in a PBS “Unladylike 2020” interview about Zitkála-Šá
Some children became completely divorced from their first family, community, tribes of birth, and heritage. Somehow, however, Zitkála-Šá grew up straddling both the white world and the First Nations world. She was ethnically mixed and would eventual marry another former student of the missionary school (who was also of mixed heritage, although both of his parents were First Nations) and become known as Gertrude Simmons Bonnin. She taught and wrote, and became an activist.
She published articles and essays in the internationally recognized magazines like Atlantic Monthly and Harper’s Monthly and eventually served as editor and contributor to American Indian Magazine, which was published by The Society of American Indians. Much of what she wrote highlighted the trauma and tragedy of the boarding schools and the unfulfilled treaties between the tribes and the federal government. But, she had another agenda, another subversive form of activism. Because of her experiences (in both worlds) and her education (in both worlds), she was able to use what appealed to the European world – their words and their appreciation of literature, dance, and music – preserve the very culture the Europeans where trying to eradicate.
“The old legends of America belong quite as much to the blue-eyed little patriot as to the black-haired aborigine. And when they are grown tall like the wise grown-ups may they not lack interest in a further study of Indian folklore, a study which so strongly suggests our near kinship with the rest of humanity and points a steady finger toward the great brotherhood of mankind, and by which one is so forcibly impressed with the possible earnestness of life as seen through the teepee door! If it be true that much lies “in the eye of the beholder,” then in the American aborigine as in any other race, sincerity of belief, though it were based upon mere optical illusion, demands a little respect.
After all he seems at heart much like other peoples.”
– quoted from the preface to American Indian Stories, Legends, and Other Writings by Zitkála-Šá
In addition to performing at the White House for President William McKinley, Zitkála-Šá published autobiographical essays and short stories based on her tribes’ oral traditions in international magazines like Atlantic Monthly and and Harper’s. She published her first book in 1901, and wrote the libretto and songs for The Sun Dance Opera, the first opera penned by a member of a Native community. The opera, which premiered in 1913, was a collaboration with the white composer William F. Hanson – who, unfortunately, was the only creator credited in the 1938 publicity when the production moved from (way) off-off-off-Broadway (in Vernal, Utah) to The Broadway Theatre.
The original production was performed 15 times (throughout Utah) and featured performers from the Ute Nation alongside white performers. It not only incorporated dance that had been basically outlawed in their original context; it was based on sacred Sioux and Ute healing rituals that the federal government had also banned – even when performed on the reservation. Like her collected stories, the opera was also notable for transcribing and preserving the oral traditions.
Zitkála-Šá was an advocate for Indian civil rights and, in particular, fought for the right of citizenship. Prior to her marriage, she worked at Standing Rock Reservation for the Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) for about a year. She and her husband, Army Captain Raymond Talefase Bonnin, worked for the BIA and were stationed at the Uintah and Ouray Reservation in Utah for 14 years. Like her experiences as a boarding school student and teacher, her experiences working for the federal government allowed her to highlight the agency’s systematic problems. She eventually moved to Washington, D. C. and became a lobbyist. She served as Secretary of The Society of American Indians and editor and contributor of the organization’s publication. Her efforts contributed to passage of the Indian Citizenship Act of 1924.
In 1926, the Bonnins co-founded the National Council of American Indians. She served as the council’s president for 12 years. Since Captain Bonnin was a World War I veteran, Zitkála-Šá is buried (as Gertrude Simmons Bonnin) at Arlington National Cemetery.
“As answers to their shallow inquiries they received the students’ sample work to look upon. Examining the neatly figured pages, and gazing upon the Indian girls and boys bending over their books, the white visitors walked out of the schoolhouse well satisfied: they were educating the children of the red man! They were paying a liberal fee to the government employees in whose able hands lay the small forest of Indian timber.
In this fashion many have passed idly through the Indian schools during the last decade, afterward to boast of their charity to the North American Indians. But few there are who have paused to question whether real life or long-lasting death lies beneath this semblance of civilization.”
– quoted from The Atlantic Monthly (vol. 85, 1900) article “An Indian Teacher among Indians” by Zitkála-Šá
There is no playlist for the Common Ground practice.
NOTE: This is a “leftover” day for those celebrating the 15-day Spring Festivals. Some are finishing off literal leftovers. Some fathers are hosting their son-in-laws, but mostly people are getting ready for Day 15.
“Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States of America in Congress assembled, That all non citizen Indians born within the territorial limits of the United States be, and they are hereby, declared to be citizens of the United States: Provided That the granting of such citizenship shall not in any manner impair or otherwise affect the right of any Indian to tribal or other property.
Happy New Year! Many blessings to those celebrating the Jade Emperor’s birthday and/or observing Lent!
[This is the post for Sunday, February 21st (with information relevant to February 9th and a reference to February 17th). You can request an audio recording of Sunday’s practice (or the February 9th 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.
“I want a little sugar in my bowl I want a little sweetness down in my soul I could stand some lovin’, oh so bad Feel so funny, I feel so sad”
– quoted from the song “I Want A Little Sugar in My Bowl” by Nina Simone
Before I ask what you do with leftovers, or things left over from previous seasons, it might be prudent to ask how you feel about leftovers (and things left over from previous seasons). Because, while some people are quick to repurpose leftovers; some people (hello, brother) can’t stand leftovers. Then there are people who love leftovers, and may even prefer leftovers to the first serving. There are people who take leftovers for granted and people who are grateful for the abundance that leads to leftovers. So, yes, it might be prudent to ask how someone feels about leftovers (and things left over), because that informs how attached they are and what actions come from that attachment (even when it’s aversion).
The tenth day of the Lunar New Year is, for those who celebrated the Jade Emperor’s birthday, a day that is all about leftovers. Some traditions view the Jade Emperor as the creator and/or ruler of heaven and earth, whose origins are beyond the physical; however, in some traditions, it is believed that the Jade Emperor was originally a (real) man who took away the suffering of others.
According to one set of stories, the Kitchen God leaves the kitchen alter just before the New Year and returns to heaven in order to give the Jade Emperor an accounting of each household’s activities during the previous year. In the final days of the old year, people will clean up their homes – so the alter(s) will be ready for the return of the gods and ancestors – and, sometimes, smear honey on the lips of the Kitchen God so that his report is extra sweet. Then the Kitchen God and other household gods return on the fourth day of the New Year.
I always imagine that some years the Kitchen God’s report is really, really, wild. Take last year’s report for instance – or the last few years – or the report from the Year of the (Water) Rabbit that coincided with January 25, 1963 – February 12, 1964 (on the solar calendar).
In 2014, the first time I led a practice associated with leftovers from the Jade Emperor’s birthday celebration, the tenth day of the Lunar New Year coincided with February 9th on the solar calendar – so, I decided to incorporate the idea of the Kitchen God’s report. Specifically, I mentioned the wild report from that (Water) Rabbit year… you know, that year when there was a bit of mania all over the world and an invasion that moved across the pond: by that I mean Beatlemania and the British Invasion.
“First of all I want to congratulate you: You’ve been a fine audience, despite severe provocation.”
– quoted from Ed Sullivan’s remarks at the conclusion of The Ed Sullivan Show on February 9, 1964
The Beatles appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show on two consecutive Sundays (February 9th and February 16th, 1964). Of course, they had already made an impression in the United Kingdom and, towards the end of 1963, there were some North American radio stations that had played their music and a couple of times when prerecorded footage had appeared on television. Notably, Walter Cronkite and Jack Paar had both shared prerecorded footage with their audiences. But, it was Ed Sullivan that brought the lads to the United States and had them perform live, in front of a studio audience – a studio audience that, for all intensive purposes, was hysterical with excitement.
I say, as many people say, that the crowd was hysterical with excitement – one could even say that they were out of control. However, it’s important to note that before the first song, Ed Sullivan made the audience promise to reign in their enthusiasm when he was making introductions – and they did (even though he sometimes had to remind them of their promise). Mr. Sullivan soliciting that promise from the audience wasn’t random. Remember, he had some previous experience with this kind of audience; after all, he hosted Elvis three times, starting on September 9, 1956.
Before the first set in 1964, Ed Sullivan actually mentioned that Elvis and Colonel “Tom” Parker sent a telegram wishing the British group “a tremendous success in our country.” The Beatles started off by playing three songs: “All My Loving;” “Till There Was You” (a show tune written by Meredith Wilson in 1950 and then used in the 1957 musical The Music Man, which was made into a movie released in 1962); “She Loves You.” During the performance of “Till There Was You,” Paul, Ringo, George, and John were each featured in a close up with their names underneath. Ringo can be seen mumbling a comment to George, who seemed to get the biggest display of excitement. Of course, that excitement was only rivaled by the audible sounds of disappointment when John’s picture and name included the words, “SORRY, GIRLS, HE’S MARRIED:”
After the first set, Ed Sullivan said that the first three songs were dedicated to Johnny Carson, Randy Paar (who he mentioned with a directional gesture), and Earl Wilson. On the surface, it was an odd grouping of people. Randy Paar was Jack Paar’s 14-year old daughter. She attended the performance as Ed Sullivan’s guest and brought along then former Vice President Richard Nixon’s daughters, Tricia and Julie. (There were a couple of times throughout the show when the camera focused on what I believe was the excited trio.) Johnny Carson was Jack Paar’s successor as host of The Tonight Show and Earl Wilson was a journalist. Part of what made the dedication so odd was that Jack Paar and Ed Sullivan had a contentious rivalry that started when Mr. Paar was hosting The Tonight Show and continued into the premiere of The Jack Paar Program (in 1962). Some would say the animosity increased when Jack Paar insisted that his show was the first United States variety show to televise The Beatles (back in December 1963) – but, of course, that footage wasn’t live. When questioned about the dedication, 14-year old Randy said that it was essentially an olive branch on Ed Sullivan’s part** (a claim, I find highly suspect after watching the footage again).
Before the second set, there was an Anacin pain reliever commercial and a five minute act by a world class, prize-winning magician named Fred Kaps – the only magician in the world to win the Fédération Internationale des Sociétés Magiques (FISM) Grand Prix three times. He was also inducted into the Society of American Magicians (SAM) Hall of Fame. Even if you’re not a magic aficionado, you have probably seen people perform some of the tricks he created and/or made famous, including: color-changing silks, the “long-pour” salt trick, and the “Dancing and Floating Cork” (which you could only purchase after signing a contract promising not to reveal the mechanics of the trick). Mr. Kaps interspersed humor and exaggerated facial reactions and mannerisms with his tricks and, by all accounts, he was his usual amazing self on February 9, 1964. But, what people would remember (as the Kitchen God would have reported to the Jade Emperor) was The Beatles.
Ed Sullivan reminded the audience that The Beatles would be back the previous weekend, but his actually introduction of the band was “Once again….” The second set featured “I Saw Her Standing There” and “I Want to Hold Your Hand.” That’s it. All in all the two segments, including introductions; the round of handshakes; and Ed Sullivan expressing gratitude to the New York Police Department – plus the newspapers and magazine writers and photographers – lasted a little under 15 minutes. But, based on the expressions on people’s faces and the way some of the men were wiping the sweat off of their brows, it was an overwhelmingly warm and visceral 15 minutes.
“This is a magnificent building… but I think the roof is leaking.”
– FISM Grand Prix Champion Fred Kaps, when he worked up a sweat during a performance
“Now, I’m delighted – all of us are delighted – and I know The Beatles on their first appearance here have been very deeply thrilled by their reception here. You’ve been fun. Now get home safely. Good night!”
– quoted from Ed Sullivan’s remarks at the conclusion of The Ed Sullivan Show on February 9, 1964
One thing I should point out is that my Day 10 playlist in 2014 wasn’t The Beatles playlist from 1964. Instead, it was the “leftovers” – or, what one might call “B-sides.” Similarly, in 2016, the Year of the (Fire) Monkey, the tenth day of the Lunar New Year fell on February 17th, Ed Sheeran’s birthday and so the playlist featured what might have been “B-sides” if, you know, musicians still released 45s. In 2018, we were back to The Beatles – sort of; since the 10th day of the Year of the (Earth) Dog fell on February 25th, George Harrison’s birthday. (Serendipitously, I came across Mike Love’s tribute to George, “Pisces Brothers,” just as I was putting together the appropriate tracks.)
This year, the tenth day of the Lunar New Year coincides with the anniversary of the birth of a Pisces Sister. Born today in 1933, Eunice Kathleen Waymon was known to the world as the incomparable Nina Simone. Ms. Simone was a singer, songwriter, composer, and arranger, as well as a civil rights activist. Her music doesn’t fit neatly into one genre box; as she created music that could be considered blues, classical, folk, gospel, jazz, pop, and R&B. Then there were her activist songs. Nina Simone, it seems, could turn any situation into a song and, in doing so, became one of the most compelling voices of the Civil Rights Movement.
It would be understandable, given her range and talent, that this year’s playlist would be overflowing with Nina Simone songs. However, as sweet as it is, there is only one Nina Simone song on Sunday’s playlist. This year her birthday not only falls on the tenth day of the Lunar New Year, but also on the first Sunday of Lent in the Western Christian tradition. When so many different calendars overlap, I contemplate how I can integrate them and then, in some ways, prioritize elements based on several different considerations – including what is most directly tied to the Yoga Philosophy. The single Nina Simone track on today’s playlist ties back into the Hokkien legend and is a reminder to give thanks for whatever sweetness we are given.
“I want some sugar in my bowl, I ain’t foolin’ I want some sugar In my bowl”
– quoted from the song “I Want A Little Sugar in My Bowl” by Nina Simone
In Belgium, northern France, and parts of Germany and Switzerland, the first Sunday of Lent is referred to as Funkensonntag. Sometimes translated as “Spark Sunday” or as “Bonfire Sunday,” it is a day when people build Lenten (bon)fires in order to burn their Christmas trees and other debris left over from winter. Effigies of the Winter Witch and Old Man Winter are also tossed into the bonfires and thus the tradition becomes a way to welcome – even hasten – the arrival of Spring.
Errata: Just as it is in the Western tradition, the Sunday before Ash Wednesday is part of Shrovetide in the Eastern Christian tradition – people just use a different calendar. Sometimes the calendars overlap so that the Lenten seasons are exactly a week apart. Unfortunately, I mixed up my calendars this year and erroneously referred to this Sunday as the Sunday before Lent in the Eastern tradition. However, this year Shrove Sunday, also known as “Cheesefare Sunday” and “Forgiveness Sunday” will coincide with March 14th (on the secular calendar). Please accept my apologies for the confusion.
One final note, even though I mixed up the calendars. Some within the Eastern Christian communities refer to Shrove Sunday as “Forgiveness Sunday” and there is an extra emphasis on fasting, prayers, and letting go of past transgressions, sins, animosity, and rivalries. (**Hmm, so even though I’m not sure how observant he was, I might have to give Ed Sullivan a break. He was Roman Catholic of Irish descent and exposed to a lot of different cultures. More to the point, Sunday, February 9th was Shrove Sunday in 1964 – so maybe he really was asking for and offering forgiveness with his dedication.)
“Think of a space in your heart, and in the midst of that space think that a flame is burning. Think of that flame as your own soul and inside the flame is another effulgent light, and that is the Soul of your soul, God. Meditate upon that in the heart. Chastity, non-injury, forgiving even the greatest enemy, truth, faith in the Lord, these are all different Vrittis. Be not afraid if you are not perfect in all of these; work, they will come. He who has given up all attachment, all fear, and all anger, he whose whole soul has gone unto the Lord, he who has taken refuge in the Lord, whose heart has become purified, with whatsoever desire he comes to the Lord, He will grant that to him. Therefore worship Him through knowledge, love, or renunciation.”
– quoted from “Chapter VIII: Raja-Yoga in Brief” in The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda, Volume 1, Raja-Yoga by Swami Vivekananda
The playlist for Tuesday (2/9) is available on YouTube and Spotify.
The playlist for Sunday (2/21) is available on YouTube and Spotify.
“You’ve got to learn to leave the table When love’s no longer being served”
– quoted from the song “You’ve Got to Learn” by Nina Simone
[This is the post for Monday, February 1st! 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.
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 the center and its 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.]
I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the flow of human blood in human veins.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.”
– from the poem “The Negro Speaks of Rivers” by Langston Hughes
Since 1976, February 1st has marked the beginning of Black History Month in the United States of America. I always found it curious: Why February, the shortest month of the year (even during leap years)? I sometimes wondered if the reason had anything to do with Langston Hughes, who was born today in 1902.*
Born James Mercer Langston Hughes, the poet was a prominent member of the Harlem Renaissance and the first Black American to earn a living solely from writing and public lectures. In addition to poetry (including jazz poetry, which he started writing in high school), he wrote novels, plays, essays, and letters…so many letters. He wrote so many letters, in fact, that at one point he was writing 30 – 40 letters a day and, by the end of his life, he could have filled 20 volumes of books with his letters.
He traveled the world, wrote about his experiences in Paris, Mexico, West Africa, the Azores and Canary Islands, Holland, France, Italy, the Soviet Union, and the Caribbean – but he always came home to Harlem. After all, his patrons were in Harlem. They were, in many ways, the very people about whom he said that he wrote: “workers, roustabouts, and singers, and job hunters on Lenox Avenue in New York, or Seventh Street in Washington or South State in Chicago—people up today and down tomorrow, working this week and fired the next, beaten and baffled, but determined not to be wholly beaten, buying furniture on the installment plan, filling the house with roomers to help pay the rent, hoping to get a new suit for Easter—and pawning that suit before the Fourth of July.” He made a name for himself specifically writing about the Black experience, but (in doing so) he wrote about the American experience.
“Well, I like to eat, sleep, drink, and be in love.
I like to work, read, learn, and understand life.
I like a pipe for a Christmas present,
or records—Bessie, bop, or Bach.
I guess being colored doesn’t make me not like
the same things other folks like who are other races.
So will my page be colored that I write?
Being me, it will not be white.
But it will be
a part of you, instructor.
You are white—
yet a part of me, as I am a part of you.
That’s American.”
– quoted from the poem ”Theme for English B” by Langston Hughes
Being an African-American born at the beginning of the 20th Century meant that Mr. Hughes easily trace his heritage back to slavery. Both of his paternal great-grandmothers were enslaved and both of his paternal great-grandfathers were slave owners.
He could also trace his heritage to freedom and a time when there was no question about freedom – as well as the time when people appreciated their freedom in new ways. His maternal grandmother, Mary Patterson, was African-American, French, English, and Indigenous American. She was also the first woman to attend Oberlin College. She married a man, Lewis Sheridan Leary, also of mixed heritage, who died in 1859 while participating in John Brown’s raid on Harpers Ferry and eventually married her second husband, Charles Henry Langston. The senior Langston, along with his brother John Mercer Langston, was an abolitionist and leader of the Ohio Anti-Slavery Society, who would eventually become a teacher and voting rights activist.
“So boy, don’t you turn back.
Don’t you set down on the steps
’Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.
Don’t you fall now—
For I’se still goin’, honey,
I’se still climbin’,
And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.”
– quoted from the poem “Mother to Son” by Langston Hughes
The Langstons’ daughter, Caroline (Carrie), would become a school teacher and the mother of the great poet. Raised primarily by his mother and maternal grandmother, Langston Hughes should a definite talent and interest in writing at an early age. He was also devoted to books. Despite being academically inclined, he struggled with the racism in school – even when it seemed to benefit him, because he couldn’t escape the misconceptions, marginalization, and oppression that came with the stereotypes.
Still, he persisted. He attended Lincoln University, a Historically Black College and University (HBCU) in Chester County, Pennsylvania, where he was the classmate of the then-future Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall. And, when he had the opportunity to share his poetry with a popular white poet whose poetry “sang” (and was meant to be sung), he took advantage of the moment – even though he was working as a busboy at a New York hotel where the poet (Vachel Lindsay) was having dinner.
“I dream a world where all Will know sweet freedom’s way, Where greed no longer saps the soul Nor avarice blights our day. A world I dream where black or white, Whatever race you be, Will share the bounties of the earth And every man is free,”
– quoted from “I Dream A World” by Langston Hughes
Langston Hughes and his words left an indelible mark on the world. As Black History Month is all about recognizing African-Americans who were influential to our society – but not always recognized by society; I have often wondered if Langston Hughes’s birthday being on the 1st was the reason Black History Month is in February. Well, as it turns out, it’s just one more example of serendipity.
Created in 1926 by Carter G. Woodson, an African-American historian who was the son of former slaves, the annual celebration initially started as “Negro History Week” – and it was the second week in February for fifty years. Mr. Woodson started the week so that it coincided with the birthday of President Abraham Lincoln (2/12/1809) and the observed/assumed birthday of Frederick Douglass (2/14/1818), the abolitionist, who escaped slavery at the age of 20). The existence of this heritage month has inspired heritage and cultural observation throughout the year so that the calendar, in some ways, reflects the United States: diverse and (academically) segregated. It has also changed the way some aspects of American history are taught.
“I look at my own body
With eyes no longer blind—
And I see that my own hands can make
The world that’s in my mind.
Then let us hurry, comrades,
The road to find.
– quoted from the poem “I look at the world” by Langston Hughes
There is no playlist for the Common Ground practice. (But my Langston Hughes playlist is full of Bessie, bop, and Bach – all of the poet’s favorites!)
*2022 NOTE: According to most printed biographies (that I checked), Langston Hughes was born in 1902. However, many digital sources indicate that he was born in 1901 – and this earlier date is based on research and fact checking reported for the New York Times by Jennifer Schuessler (in 2018). Curiously, the 1940 census listed his birth as “abt 1905;” however, this information would have been given to a census taker by one of the poet’s roommates. (Additionally, we know from one his poems that Langston Hughes didn’t think very highly of the “census man” and the accuracy of census information.)
IT’S ALMOST TIME! Are you ready for another “First Friday Night Special?” Please join me this Friday, February the 5th (7:15 – 8:20 PM, CST) when we will be “observing the conditions” of the heart. This practice is open and accessible to all. Additional details are posted on the “Class Schedules” calendar!
[This is the post for Monday, 12521 – another palindrome practice! 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.
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 the center and its teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es).) Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.]
The Yogī should practise [sic] Haṭha Yoga in a small room, situated in a solitary place, being 4 cubits square, and free from stones, fire, water, disturbances of all kinds, and in a country where justice is properly administered, where good people live, and food can be obtained easily and plentifully.”
– quoted from “Chapter 1. On Āsanas” of the Haţha Yoga Pradipika, translated by Pancham Sinh (1914)
“… a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction…”
– quoted from the essay “A Room of One’s Own,” as it appears in A Room of One’s Own And, Three Guineas by Virginia Woolf
In October 1928, Virginia Woolf gave two speeches to two different student societies at Newnham College and Girton College, which at the time were two of the all-women colleges at the University of Cambridge. (NOTE: Newnham is still an all-women’s college. Girton started accepting men in 1971 and started allowing men to be “Mistress,” or head of the college, in 1976.) The speeches were about women and fiction – and specifically detailed why there were so few women writers who had earned acclaimed (and, to certain degree, why those that did often did so anonymously or with “male” names). She also highlighted the absurd trichotomy between the two wildly archetypical way women are portrayed in literature and the reality of the very different types of women in the room, let alone in the world.
Born Virginia Stephen in Kensington, England, today in 1882, Ms. Woolf speculated about the works that might have come from a woman (say, in Shakespeare’s time) who had a helpmate to take care of the cooking, cleaning, children, and other household business. She also talked about the social constraints that not only prevented a woman from devoting copious time to the practical application of her craft, writing, but also the social constraints and inequalities that could result in what would amount to writer’s block. All this, she detailed, even before she addressed the issue of a market place predisposed to highlight male writers – and she introduced her ideas by establishing two (really three) of the things a woman would need to overcome the obstacles of society: (time), space, and money.
When I first started going deeper into my physical practice of yoga, I looked into some of the classic texts within the tradition. One of those texts was the Haţha Yoga Pradipika (Light on the Physical Practice of Yoga), a 15th Century text that focuses on āsanas (“seats” or poses), prāņāyāma (breath awareness and control), mudrās (“seals” or “gestures”), and Samādhi (that ultimate form of “meditation” that is absorption). Throughout the text, and in particular in the chapter on mudrās, there is a breakdown of how energy, power, or vitality moves through the body and the benefits of harnessing that power.
I would eventually appreciate how the text is almost a summary of the earlier Yoga Sūtras, but (as an English lit major), what struck me first was how similar these early instructions, on a practice that can be used to cultivate clarity and harness the power of the mind, were to Virginia Woolf’s advice to women writers – about cultivating clarity and harnessing the power of the mind.
Posture becoming established, a Yogî, master of himself, eating salutary and moderate food, should practise [sic] Prâṇâyâma, as instructed by his guru.”
– quoted from “Chapter 2. On Prāņāyāma” of the Haţha Yoga Pradipika, translated by Pancham Sinh (1914)
“I feel a thousand capacities spring up in me. I am arch, gay, languid, melancholy by turns. I am rooted, but I flow.”
– quoted from “Susan” in The Waves by Virginia Woolf
Just as Virginia Woolf addressed misconceptions about women in her essays and fiction, Pancham Sinh addressed some misconceptions about people who practice yoga and the practice of prāņāyāma in an introduction to the Haţha Yoga Pradipika. Part of the introduction is an admonishment to people who would study the practice, but do not practice it, stating, “People put their faith implicitly in the stories told them about the dangers attending the practice, without ever taking the trouble of ascertaining the fact themselves. We have been inspiring and expiring air from our birth, and will continue to do so till death; and this is done without the help of any teacher. Prāņāyāma is nothing but a properly regulated form of the otherwise irregular and hurried flow of air, without using much force or undue restraint; and if this is accomplished by patiently keeping the flow slow and steady, there can be no danger. It is the impatience for the Siddhis which cause undue pressure on the organs and thereby causes pains in the ears, the eyes, the chest, etc. If the three bandhas be carefully performed while practicing [sic] the Prāņāyāma, there is no possibility of any danger.”
Siddhis are the powers or “accomplishments” achieved from continuous practice. They range from being able to extend peace out into the world and understanding all languages, to being able to levitate and understand all languages, to the six “powers unique to being human.” Bandhas are “locks” and refer to internal engagements used to seal sections of the body in order to control the flow of prāņā. The three major bandhas referred to in the text are the same engagements I encourage when I tell people to “zip up” and engage the pelvic floor and lower abdominal cavity (mūla bandha), the mid and upper abdominal cavity (uḍḍīyana bandha), and the throat (jālandhara bandha). I typically refer to a fourth – pada bandha – which is a seal for the feet; however, in classical texts the fourth bandha is the engagement of the three major bandhas (root, abdominal, and throat) at the same time.
Before anyone gets it twisted, let’s be clear that this introduction is not advice to grab a book and follow instructions without the guidance of a teacher. In fact, Pancham Sinh specifically advised people to find a teacher who practiced and indicated that while one could follow the directions from a (sacred) book, there are some things that cannot be expressed in words. There are some things that can only be felt. This is consistent with Patanjali’s explanation that the elements and senses that make up the “objective world” can be “divided into four categories: specific, unspecific, barely describable, and absolutely indescribable.” (YS 2.19) That is to say, there are some things that have specific sense-related reference points; some things that can be referred back to the senses, but on a personal level; some things that have no reference points, but can be understood through “a sign” or comprehension of sacred text; and some things which cannot be described, because there is no tangible reference point and/or “sign” – there is only essence.
One of the things we can feel, but not touch, is emotion. Emotions can come with visceral experiences and, in that way, can fall into the “unspecific” category, but more often than not what we feel is “barely describable” (or even indescribable) – and yet, writers are always trying to describe or capture the essence of what is felt. As the author of nine novels (including one published shortly after her death), five short story collections (most of which were published after her death), a hybrid novel (part fiction, part non-fiction), three book-length essays, a biography, and hundreds of articles, reviews, and essays, Virginia Woolf constantly endeavored to describe what she felt and what she felt she saw others feeling. Even more salient, she often focused on the disconnection between what her characters felt and what they could describe about what they felt.
The author’s efforts were hindered, or aided (depending on one’s viewpoint), by the fact that she experienced so much trauma and heartbreak; much of which led to emotional despair. She was possibly (probably) abused by one of her half-brothers from an early age. Then she suffered a mental breakdown at the age of 13, after her mother died. Then she had to deal with the death of her half-sister and a maternal role model just two years later. When her father he died, in 1904, she had another breakdown, the severity of which landed her in the country for a period of convalescence. It was during this period that she began to write in earnest (even though the doctors had recommended that she only write letters) and that she would meet Leonard Woolf, the author whom she would marry in 1912. The writing helped, in that she seemed to find some mental and emotional stability for about 15 years. But, she would experience another breakdown after correcting the proofs of her first novel, The Voyage Out. The novel was published by her half-brother’s publishing company (yes, that aforementioned half-brother) and introduced the world to “Clarissa Dalloway,” the protagonist of her fourth novel.
Having seated in such a room and free from all anxieties, he should practise [sic] Yoga, as instructed by his guru.”
– quoted from “Chapter 1. On Āsanas” of the Haţha Yoga Pradipika, translated by Pancham Sinh (1914)
“You cannot find peace by avoiding life.”
– quoted from The Hours: a novel by Michael Cunningham
It is interesting to me that while the instruction for the Haţha Yoga Pradipika instructed a person to practice when they were “free from…disturbances of all kinds” (HYP 1.12); “free from dirt, filth and insects” (HYP 1.13); and “free from all anxieties” (HYP 1.14), the vast majority of people practicing in the modern world do so in order to free themselves from the various maladies that plague them. Additionally, I find it interesting that historians, teachers of literature, and even psychiatrists spend a lot of time (theoretically) diagnosing a young woman (Virginia Woolf) who may have been experiencing (and working through) the most natural of emotions; natural, given her circumstances. Were her emotions extreme and potentially dangerous? Yes, by all accounts – including her own words and her death – her emotions were extreme and dangerous; as were her circumstances. Initially, she was able to work through her distress because she had the support of those to whom she was connected. In the end, however, she was left alone and feeling disconnected.
The Air I Breathe, one of my favorite movies, was released in the United States today in 2008. Inspired by the idea that emotions are like fingers on a hand, the main characters are known to the audience as Happiness, Pleasure, Sorrow, Love, and Fingers – and their stories are interconnected, even though they don’t necessarily realize it. In fact, some of the most desperate actions in the movie are motivated by fear and a sense of isolation. Promotional materials for the movie proclaimed, “We are all strangers / We are all living in fear / We are all ready to change” and in the movie Happiness asks, “So where does change come from? And how do we recognize it when it happens?” I think both the statement and the question could be applied to so many, if not all, of Virginia Woolf’s characters – and they could apply to all of us in the world right now.
“‘For,’ the outsider will say, ‘in fact as a woman, I have no country. As a woman I want no country. As a woman my country is the whole world.’ And if, when reason has had its say, still some obstinate emotion remains, some love of England dropped into a child’s ears… this drop of pure, if irrational, emotion she will make serve her to give to England first what she desires of peace and freedom for the whole world.”
– quoted from the novel-essay “Three Guineas,” as it appears in The Selected Works of Virginia Woolf by Virginia Woolf
As I have mentioned before, I consider the 8-Limbed Yoga Philosophy to have very real-time, practical applications and I normally think of the physical practice as an opportunity to practice, explore, and play with the various elements of the philosophy. I will even sometimes use aspects of alignment as a metaphor for situations in our lives off the mat. Given this last year, however, I have really started to consider how āsana instructions from classic texts like The Yoga Sūtras of Patanjali and the Haţha Yoga Pradipika, can be more practically applied to the most basic aspects of everyday life.
For instance, if we spend our time on the mat cultivating a “steady/stable, comfortable/easy/joyful” foundation in order to breathe easier and more deeply, doesn’t it make sense to spend some time cultivating the same type of foundation in our lives? Going out a little more, if we do not have the luxury or privilege of practicing “in a country where justice is properly administered, where good people live, and food can be obtained easily and plentifully,” doesn’t it behoove us to create that land? Finally, what happens if we (to paraphrase yoga sūtras 2.46-47) establish a baseline for stability and then loosen up a little bit and focus on the infinite? Patanjali and the authors of the other sacred texts told us we would become more of who we are: leaner in body, healthier, brighter, more joyful, “clearer, stronger, and more intuitive.” In other words: peaceful and blissful.
“lōkāḥ samastāḥ sukhinōbhavantu”
– A mettā (loving-kindness) chant that translates to “May all-beings, everywhere, be happy and be free.”
There is no playlist for the Common Ground practice.
When the body becomes lean, the face glows with delight, Anâhatanâda manifests, and eyes are clear, body is healthy, bindu under control, and appetite increases, then one should know that the Nâdîs are purified and success in Haṭha Yoga is approaching.”
– quoted from “Chapter 1. On Āsanas” of the Haţha Yoga Pradipika, translated by Pancham Sinh (1914)
“The human frame being what it is, heart, body and brain all mixed together, and not contained in separate compartments as they will be no doubt in another million years, a good dinner is of great importance to good talk. One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.”
– quoted from the essay “A Room of One’s Own,” as it appears in A Room of One’s Own And, Three Guineas by Virginia Woolf
If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can call 1-800-273-TALK (8255). You can also call the TALK line if you are struggling with addiction or involved in an abusive relationship. The Lifeline network is free, confidential, and available to all 24/7. YOU CAN TALK ABOUT ANYTHING.
[This is the post for Saturday, January 23rd. It contains some examples not included in the class. You can request an audio recording of Saturday’s 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.]
“I fell in love, like many people do. We do that as well. And it became ridiculously inconvenient to have my attendant pushing me around in my wheelchair with my girlfriend. It was an extra person that I didn’t need to be more intimate. I learned how to drive a power wheelchair in one day. I was so motivated to learn something that it changed in many ways my perception of my disability and of myself. She jumped on my lap and we rode off into the sunset or to the closest motel.”
– Ed Roberts in a 60 Minutes interview with Harry Reasoner
Last week’s practice included a quick a quick summary review of the “Samadhi Pada” (Chapter or Foundation on Concentration), in which Patanjali explains (in 51 sūtras) how the mind works and how to work the mind. This week’s practice focuses on reintroducing the practice that Patanjali introduces in the “Sadhana Pada” (Chapter or Foundation on Practice), which is 55 sūtras outlining the 8-limbs of the Yoga Philosophy.
One of the things that I appreciate about the practice of the Yoga Philosophy is that it is practical. Granted, the Buddha (historically) did not agree. I have heard that, in his time, yoga as a philosophy was not widely practiced by householders and the Noble Eightfold Path was his codification of a practical practice for all. However, I feel that Patanjali also did this with the Yoga Sūtras. I feel that way because I have seen people, from all backgrounds, practice yoga just as I have seen people, from all backgrounds, practice Buddhism – just as I have seen people, from all backgrounds, struggle with integrating the 8 elements of either practice into their lives. More to this point, however, is the fact that Patanjali starts off the second section of his practicum talking about “Yoga in action” (kriyāyogah).
Even before breaking down the 8 Limbs, Patanjali offers what some have called a prescription for achieving the state of yoga that will cease the fluctuation of the mind. This prescription is a combination of what he will eventually explain are the last three “internal observations” (niyamāh): “austerity or heat” (tapah), “self-study” (svādhyāya), and a trustful surrender to the Divine (īśvarapraņidhāna).
These are things anyone can do – if they truly understand what it is they are doing. Part of the problem in the modern world (and Buddhism runs into a similar problem) is that people get things twisted. They focus on what’s happening on the outside, superficially; rather than what’s happening inside. Even if they know that tapas can be defined as “heat, discipline, and austerity” – as well as the practices that cultivate the same – they might look at a really sweaty physical practice and think, “Oh, no, I can’t do that. That’s not for me.” And, while those styles and traditions can be a form of tapah, they are not the only form – and it is possible to do those very hot or heated practices and not cultivate discipline or austerity, which begs two questions: What are you practicing? What are you accomplishing?
“From a practical standpoint then, svadyaya is the process of employing the power of discernment and maintaining a constant awareness of who we are, what we are trying to become, and how the objective world can help us accomplish our goal.”
– commentary on Yoga Sūtra 2.1 from The Practice of the Yoga Sūtra: Sadhana Pada by Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, PhD
Having previously established (in the first chapter) how the mind works and how to work the mind, Patanjali reiterates the purpose of yoga (“union” of mind-body-spirit and an end to the causes of suffering) – this time as it specifically relates to afflicted/dysfunctional thought patterns. He gives a more detailed explanation of those afflicted thought patterns by describing them as ignorance, the false sense of self, attachment (rooted in pleasure), aversion (which is attachment rooted in pain), and a fear of loss/death. He establishes ignorance (āvidya) as the root of the other four and states that this groundwork is established no matter if the ignorance is dormant, attenuated, disjointed, or active. He then breaks describes the different ways of āvidya manifests in the world – which basically takes us back to the ways in which we misunderstand the nature of things – and explains how the other four afflicted thought patterns rise up.
There are examples of how āvidya and the other four dysfunctional/afflicted thought patterns manifest all around us. There are, therefore, also examples of the sources of our ignorance can be the path towards freedom, fulfillment, and more clarity. One example of this is how some people view those that are not considered “able bodied.” Think about the activist Edward V. Roberts, for example. Known as the “Father of the Independent Living” movement, Mr. Roberts was born today (January 23rd) in 1939. By all accounts, he spent his formative years as a “regular” boy. Then, at the age of fourteen, contracted polio – this was in 1953, two years before the vaccine ended the polio epidemic. The virus left the active, “sports-loving” teenager paralyzed from the neck down, with mobility only in two fingers and a few toes. It also (temporarily) crushed his spirit. He initially spent most of his days and all of his nights in an 800-pound iron lung and, when he wasn’t in the iron lung, he used “frog breathing” – a technique that uses the facial and neck muscles to pump air into the lungs.
Now, if you are someone who has not interacted with someone with a disability, you might think – as Ed Roberts initially thought of himself – that he was a “helpless cripple.” You might, like him and one of his early doctors, back in 1953, think that there was no point to his life. You might think that he couldn’t do yoga; couldn’t get married (and divorced); couldn’t have a child; and definitely couldn’t do anything to change the world. But, if you think any of that, just as he initially thought that, you would be wrong.
“There are very few people even with the most severe disabilities who can’t take control of their own life. The problem is that the people around us don’t expect us to.”
– Ed Roberts in a 60 Minutes interview with Harry Reasoner
Just to be clear, to my knowledge Ed Roberts didn’t practice yoga. However, he did practice Shotokan karate. Also, it is interesting to note that (a) the glottis (which includes the true vocal chords and the rima glottidis or empty space at the back of the throat) that we engage to practice Ujjayiprāņāyāma, is the same area he would engage to breathe without the iron lung and (b) once he changed his understanding of himself – let go of his “false sense of self” – he was able to change the world.
Even though he could attend school by telephone, Zona Roberts, Ed Roberts’s mother, insisted that he attend school in-person one day a week for a few hours. She also encouraged him to think of himself as a “star” and to advocate for his own needs. So, when he was in danger of not graduating from high school, because he hadn’t completed driver’s education of physical education, he pushed back on those who would limit him.
He not only graduated from high school, he also attended the College of San Mateo and the University of California Berkeley – even though one of the UC Berkeley deans wanted to reject him because someone had had an unsuccessful bid at college and the dean viewed all people with disabilities as a monolith. At Berkeley, Mr. Roberts pushed to have on campus housing that would accommodate his needs and, once that was established, pushed the university to admit and provide the dormitory experience to other people with “severe disabilities.” The Cowell Residence Program became a model for universities around the world.
Mr. Roberts and some of those students in the Cowell Residence Program referred to themselves as the “Rolling Quads” – and they were very active in changing people’s perceptions and understandings, and therefore changing policy and infrastructure. “Curb cuts,” the ramped opening between a sidewalk and street, are one of the changes that resulted from their activism. After Ed Roberts graduated with a Bachelor’s and Master’s in Political Science, he went on to teach at an “alternative college;” to serve as Director of the state organization that had once labeled him too disabled to work; and eventually co-founded the World Institute on Disability (at Berkeley). His activism – including protesting at the San Francisco offices of the Carter Secretary of Health, Education, and Welfare and testifying before Congress – led to the creation of the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA, 1990).
“And I literally went from like 120 pounds to 50 pounds. I also discovered how powerful the mind is, when you make up your mind.”
– Ed Roberts in a 60 Minutes interview with Harry Reasoner
In the second chapter Yoga Sūtras, Patanjali continues to emphasize the importance of the practice by explaining how the afflictions can end – with meditation being one of the methods – and also outlining the connection between these afflictions and karma (“work, effort”), which can be a never ending cycle of action and reaction. In explaining this connection, Patanjali (like the Buddha) points to how the causes of suffering can also be the way to “fulfillment and freedom” from suffering. He also breaks down the composition of the “objective world;” the three properties of energy; the four ways in which we can understand or sense everything in the objective world; and reiterates the power of the mind – both in its ability to delude and its ability to achieve clarity.
In his discussion of personal power, Patanjali expounds on how powerful the mind-body can be and how that power is magnified when combined with the power of the Divine. He also explains that this power, fueled by two levels of “unshakable discerning knowledge,” which fall into seven categories. After laying out this foundation, Patanjali states (just like the Buddha does after him) that his path leads one to the “end of suffering.” The remainder of the second chapter is devoted to outlining the 8-Limbed philosophy, and explaining the benefits of the first 5, as follows:
1. Yamās (External Restraints or Universal Commandments): Non-violence, honesty, non-stealing, an awareness of one’s connection to the highest reality, and non-grasping/non-hording
2. Niyamās (Internal Observations): cleanliness, contentment, heat/discipline/austerity, self-study, and a trustful surrender to the Divine
3. Āsana (Seat or Pose)
4. Prāņāyāma (Awareness and mastery of energy)
5. Pratyāhāra (Withdrawing the Senses, inward)
6. Dhāraņā (Focus or Concentration*)
7. Dhyāna (Concentration or Meditation*)
8. Samādhi (Meditation, Perfect Meditation, or Spiritual Absorption*)
*NOTE: Different English translations are based on different traditions.
Patanjali very specifically states that the five yamās (“restraints”) are “universally applicable” and are not limited by an individual’s identity and/or circumstances. Anyone and everyone can practice them! He emphasizes the importance of cultivating an awareness of opposites, which can be useful in attenuating negative and afflicted/dysfunctional thought patterns, especially in the absence of or in conjunction with the 10 elements of the ethical component. He references seven steps (or stages) or prāņāyāma, as awareness of breath, and basic practice instructions related to the three parts of the breath. He then references a fourth state or experience, which transcends the other parts of the breath.
His explanation of the direct benefits of the first five limbs illustrates how each limb takes you inward in a way that can be partially measured by external factors. Additionally, he points to how the “mastery” of the third limb allows one to practice the fourth limb, the mastery of which allows one to practice the fifth limb, and so on. Even though he does not go into a great deal of detail (with regard to the final three limbs), Patanjali’s breakdown of progression in the practice is shown to also apply to those higher limbs: dhāraņā, dhyāna, and samādhi.
“My bottom walk-away experience that I believe I carry with me every day is that my father never settled for anything and always fought for everything. And he always, always followed his gut, followed his passion, went with it no matter who was against him, and oftentimes there was more people against him than it was for him.
So I’ve always followed my gut and followed my passion. And in so many different speeches, he would always encourage that person to look within themselves, find their passion, follow it. You can’t… You can’t go wrong with your gut. You can’t go wrong with your passion. Don’t ever settle. He never settled. I’ll never settle. I carry that with me every day, and if there’s anything he loved to pass on, it’s just go for it.”
– quoted from “A Day in the Life of Ed Roberts: Lee Roberts Talks About His Father, Ed Roberts” by Lee Roberts
Saturday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. (This is the playlist dated 07/11/2020.)
Errata: This post has been updated to more accurately describe the anatomy related to “frog breathing.”
A Joyful Practice 