For Those Who Missed It: The following was originally posted as “The Cagey Truth About Nothing” on September 5, 2020, and reposted in 2021. Today’s class details (and some formatting) have been updated.
“Every moment is an echo of nothing.”
— John Cage
Listen. Do that 90-second thing. Just for a moment, be still and be quiet.
Notice what you hear.
Notice what you see.
Notice what you feel.
Because, as long as you are alive, these things are always happening.
“Everything we do is music.”
“The world is teeming; anything can happen.”
— John Cage
We refer to the absence of something as nothing; but, in actuality, there is always something. Our understanding of nothing or emptiness is based on our perception and awareness of the truth. Zen Buddhism, which John Cage practiced, focuses on self-restraint, meditation, insight into the nature of the mind and the nature of things, and the personal expression of this insight — especially as it benefits others. This, truly, parallels the focus of the yoga philosophy.
It’s tricky, cagey even. However, if we pay attention, we start to notice that the truth about nothing leads to the truth about everything — and Patanjali indicated that being dedicated to to the truth leads to everything.
— “When a yogi is established in truthfulness, actions begin to bear fruit. [Truth is the foundation for fruitful action.]”
Born today in 1912, John Cage was an artist and composer who’s most well-known work is often misinterpreted. Even as musicians — even heavy metal musicians — who understand the piece take it on, there is often a level of interpretation and improvisation that changes the tenure of the piece. Some say Mr. Cage would approve of such things. Others say otherwise, but the truth of the matter is that he was not only a student of art and music. He was also a student of Zen Buddhism, Indian philosophy, chance, and (yes) improvisation.
He turned more towards music than art, because more people commented on his music and, in some ways, music was harder for him. He combined his two art forms by composing music for “prepared piano”, a piano that had been altered with blocks, pins, and other objects — and essentially turned into a percussion instrument. He also collaborated with his partner Merce Cunningham, the choreographer, and spent years composing via the I Ching, a resource for divination.
Divination comes from the Latin word for “to foresee, to foretell, to predict, to prophesy” and, as it is related to the Latin word for “divine”, it can be translated as “to be inspired by God.” It is, like randomly opening a page in the Bible or your favorite book, a way to gain insight into a particular situation. The I Ching or Book of Changes (sometimes translated as Classic of Changes) is an ancient resource for Chinese divination and one of the oldest Chinese classics. It became one of the “Five Classics” in the 2nd Century B.C. and has influenced art, literature, philosophy, and religion around the world since the Western Zhou period (1000 – 750 B. C.).
The text is the primary reference for interpreting a sequence of hexagrams which can be formed with numbers or by throwing coins containing the symbols for “yin” (a broken line) or “yang” (an unbroken line). Just like other users of Chinese divination, John Cage would form a question, throw the coins, and then create a musical interpretation of the resulting hexagon sequence and its corresponding message. While he had previously composed “by chance”, using the I Ching became his standard method of composing music after one of his students gave him a copy of the sacred text in 1951. In a 1957 lecture, he described music as “purposeless play” and “a way of waking up to the very life we’re living.”
“If something is boring after 2 minutes, try it for 4. If still boring, then 8. Then 16. Then 38. Eventually one discovers that it is not boring at all.”
— John Cage
It was also in 1951 that Mr. Cage had two other highly influential experiences. His friend and colleague Robert Rauschenberg produced a series of white paintings which appeared to be “blank” canvases, but which actually changed based on lighting and the shadows of the people viewing them. Around this same time, Mr. Cage spent some time in an anechoic chamber at Harvard University. The chamber was designed so that every part of the room absorbed sound, rather than reflecting it. Since it was meant to be completely silent and externally sound-proof, he expected to hear silence. However, instead of silence, he heard a high pitched sound and a low pitched sound. The engineer in charge of the room told him the high pitch was his nervous system and the low pitch was his blood circulation. Instead of silence, he was treated to the music of his own existence.
“There is no such thing as an empty space or an empty time. There is always something to see, something to hear. In fact, try as we may to make a silence, we cannot.”
— John Cage
Please join me today (Tuesday, September 5th) at 12:00 PM or 7:15 PM for a yoga practice on Zoom. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules”calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email myra(at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Tuesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “09052020 The Cagey Truth About Nothing”]
(FAIR WARNING: The volume on these tracks is quite dynamic, more so on the Spotify list. I love this music, however, I know some folks hate it; so, feel free to “randomly” pick another list or…practice in “silence.”)
“Get yourself out of whatever cage you find yourself.”
— John Cage
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.)
For Those Who Missed It: This post-practice post for Friday, September 1st, is a revised (and slightly expanded) version of a 2020 post. You can request an audio recording of either practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email myra(at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.
“Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.”
– Macbeth in Act V, Scene V of Macbeth by William Shakespeare
Philosophies and major religions from all over the world emphasize the importance of being dedicated to the truth. In the Yoga Philosophy, that dedication to the truth, satya, is the second yamā (external “restraint” / universal commandment). Yet, despite that emphasis, there is a lot of disinformation, misinformation, manipulated information, lack of information, and fakery in the world. Sometimes there is so much that it can seem hard to know the truth.
We can spend an extraordinary amount of time sifting and searching through all the disinformation, misinformation, manipulated information, lack of information, and fakery in the world and, in the end, feel like the aforementioned Scottish king and the inspiration for a novel by William Faulkner. It’s so frustrating that we may settle down for a moment and give up. Or, we may rest awhile, only to dive back in. But, really, those are two bad choices.
A third option is the oft overlooked option of being still, being quite, and turning inward instead of outward. Yes, it is often overlooked and yet, every philosophy and major religion in the world emphasizes the idea that we carry the truth with us. The truth is inside of us. So, the key to seeking the truth isn’t turning outward, it is turning inward.
“Be still and know that I am God.”
– quoted from Tehillim – Psalms (46:11, in some Hebrew texts; 46:10 in Christian texts)
“…really pay attention to what’s happening internally…. Meditation is learning how to get so still, and so calm, tranquil, through the directing of the attention, to this present moment, that we begin to see really deeply…. And so we go more and more and more deeply into the nature of things, and when that happens, and reactivity ceases, then responsiveness arises.”
– quoted from the dharma talk and Q&A entitled “Suffering and the End of Suffering” by Gina Sharpe
Guru Nanak was the 15th Century founder of Sikhism and the first of the ten Sikh Gurus. According to Dr. Dharma Singh Khalsa*, Guru Nanak (before he was a guru) “went for his morning bath in a river near his home in northern India. He entered the water and was not seen again for three days. His family feared that he’d drowned. Then he reappeared and began singing the very verses you’ll find within these pages.” Those verses are the Japji Sahib.
Known in English as The Song of the Soul, the Japji Sahib is an ancient Sikh text at the beginning of the Guru Granth Sahib, which is the Adi Granth or primary sacred text / scripture in Sikhism. Originally compiled and printed by Guru Arjan, the fifth Sikh guru, on August 29, 1604, it was placed in the Golden Temple in the city of Amritsar, Punjab, India, today (September 1st) in 1604. Over the years, most of the ten Sikh Gurus have added their commentary and exposition, which is the majority of the Guru Granth Sahib.
Every aspect of this sacred text is part of it’s wisdom. It was originally compiled in Gurmukhī, a script which literally means “from the mouth of the teacher.” The title, the Guru Granth Sahib, indicates that it is the book that “holds” the teacher or “remover of darkness” – and it is considered a living teacher. As indicated by it’s name, the Japji Sahib is intended to be chanted.
“Deeply Listening, Yoga And the hidden systems Of the body Make themselves known.
Deeply Listening, The wisdom Of all sacred scriptures in the world Is revealed.
Oh my soul, Those who surrender themselves in Love To the Divine Continuously blossom and bloom.
Deeply Listening Sorrows And errors Depart.”
– quoted from Japji Sahib: The Song of the Soul by Guru Nanak (Translated by Ek Ong Kaar Kaur Khalsa)
Remember, when we do the 108 Sun Salutations I refer to it as japa-ajapa, which is “repeat and repeat” or “repeat and remember.” Jap also means “understand.” This type of repetition is a form of meditation which is also recommended in the Yoga Sūtra (1.27 – 1.28). It allows the mind to use the repetition as a path and gateway into stillness.
I say “a path and gateway” because there are steps. One doesn’t just mumble a few words a few times and find themselves instantly still and quiet. First, you have to get past the place where your mind is trying to wrap itself around the fact that you are repeating the same thing over and over again. Then, you have to sift through the object that is the word, the meaning of the word, and the fact that you are focused on the object and the meaning of the word. Eventually, you start to internalize the word and let go of some of the outside distractions. Finally, you reach a state of pure cognition where it is possible for you and the word to be absorbed into each other – in other words, you become the word. A dedicated, uninterrupted practice (also recommended by Patanjali) is helpful in this practice; however, the most important element is trusting and listening.
“By trusting What you hear When you listen, The Truth Of your Inner Consciousness Will saturate your psyche With wisdom And deep understanding.
By trusting What you hear When you listen, You shall dwell In all mansions Of learning.”
– quoted from Japji Sahib: The Song of the Soul by Guru Nanak (Translated by Ek Ong Kaar Kaur Khalsa)
This Restorative Yoga practice is accessible and open to all.
Prop wise, we use a small ball (e.g., tennis ball, massage ball, etc.) at the the beginning of the practice. Additionally, this is a kitchen sink practice.You can practice without props or you can use “studio” and/or “householder” props. Example of “Studio” props: 1 – 2 blankets, 2 – 3 blocks, a bolster, a strap, and an eye pillow. Example of “Householder” props: 1 – 2 blankets or bath towels, 2 – 3 books (similar in size), 2 standard pillows (or 1 body pillow), a belt/tie/sash, and a face towel.
You may want extra layers (as your body may cool down during this practice). Having a wall, chair, sofa, or coffee table may be handy.
MUSIC NOTE: You can start with Track #1, #2, #3, or #5. These are instrumental tracks.
*CONTENT NOTE: The translation by Ek Ong Kaar Kaur Khalsa is the foundation for The End of Karma: 10 Days to Perfect Peace, Tranquility, and Joy by Dharma Singh Khalsa, M. D. During the 2023 practice, I quoted chants from Chapters 12, 10, 14, and 39. The one in Chapter 13 is also one of my favorites.
Happy… [insert everything that’s being celebrated today, including Pride]!
For Those Who Missed It: This expanded and “renewed” compilation was originally posted in 2022. Some verbiage has been revised and some information was previously posted in June and December 2020.
“We must understand that yoga is not an Indian (thing).If you want to call yoga Indian, then you must call gravity European.”
– Sadhguru Jaggi Vasudev, founder of the Isha Foundation,speaking in a 2016 United Nations panel discussion about International Yoga Day
Today (June 21st) is vying with May 1st to be the hardest working day of the year. It’s International Yoga Day, World Music Day, World Handshake Day, Atheist Solidarity Day, World Humanist Day, and sometimes (including this year) it’s Summer Solstice. I feel like I’m forgetting something….
Oh yes, one of these days is also connected, inspired even, by someone’s birthday. So, let’s start with that.
Born June 21, 1938, in Mysore, India, T. K. V. Desikachar learned yoga from his father, Sri T. Krishnamacharya, who became known as “the father of modern yoga” because his teachings led to a resurgence in the physical practice of yoga in India. Eventually, a handful of Krishnamacharya’s students were charged with sharing the physical practice with the rest of the world. T. K. V. Desikachar was one of a those students and some say that his method of teaching – as well as the tradition of practice (originally called “Viniyoga”) that he taught – is the most consistent with Sri Krishnamacharya’s teachings.
Just as was the case with his father and grandfather before him, T. K. V. Desikachar’s students included his children and world leaders. Just as his father and grandfather did, he stressed the importance of teaching and practicing according to an individual’s needs – physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. His teachings were so influential that a celebration of yoga was proposed to the United Nations General Assembly in 2014. The first International Yoga Day observation occurred today in 2015, with over 200 million people in almost 180 nations practicing yoga – some even extending the celebration into the entire week.
Since today is also a solstice, someone somewhere is probably practicing 108 Sun Salutations.
“One of his longtime students, Patricia Miller, who now teaches in Washington, D.C., recalls him leading a meditation by offering alternatives. He instructed students to close their eyes and observe the space between the brows, and then said, ‘Think of God. If not God, the sun. If not the sun, your parents.’ Krishnamacharya set only one condition, explains Miller: ‘That we acknowledge a power greater than ourselves.’”
– quoted from the Yoga Journal article entitled “Krishnamacharya’s Legacy” by Fernando Pagés Ruiz
The word “solstice” comes from the Latin words meaning “sun” and “to stand still.” The solstice marks the moment, twice a year, when one hemisphere is tilted toward the Sun while the other is tilted away. The incline make it appear as if the Sun is hovering over one of the poles – thus creating the longest day (and the longest night) of the year. In the Northern Hemisphere, today was Summer Solstice, the longest day and the shortest night. It’s a moment of transition that marks incremental changes: increasingly shorter days (i.e., more night).
I often mention the yoga “tradition” of practicing 108 Sun Salutations on the equinoxes and solstices, but I have no idea how long such traditions have existed. I do know, however, that ancient Indian texts – including some related to astronomy – highlight the auspiciousness of 108 and that all around the world various cultures have celebrations related to the changing positions of the sun. Since many of the surviving sun-related rituals and traditions from around the world involve movement (e.g. dancing around a May pole, leaping over bonfires, and cleansing rituals), it is not surprising that people still find practicing Sūrya Namaskar (“Salutes to the Sun”) so appealing. After all, it is a practice of constant change, highlighting a period of transition.
While there are different types of “Sun Salutations,” it is traditionally viewed as a series of twelve poses and, therefore, a practice of six (inhale-exhale) breaths. The movement mimics the body’s natural tendencies to extend, or lift up to the sun, on the inhale – which is the solar breath – and to get closer to the earth on the exhale – which is the lunar breath. It is a mālā (“ring” or “garland”) meditation practice involving a japa-japa (“not thinking-repeat” or it can be explained as “repeat-remember”), which is similar to a reciting, chanting, or praying with a rosary or beads. In fact, there are chants and prayers which are sometimes used along with the movement. Not coincidentally, 108 corresponds with the way people use mala beads and old fashioned rosaries – which had beads to recite 10 decades (10×10) plus 8 beads (for mistakes). On the rosary, the cross is the guru bead.
If you click on the 108-related link above, you will note that 108 shows up in some traditions as the number of vedanās (“feelings” or “sensations”) that humans can experience. On one level, the calculation breaks down how we internalize vibrations. It does not, however, break down all the external stimuli that might result in the 108 sensations. For instance, it can be used to explain all the different feels we might have over a memory that pops up when we eat a biscuit, see someone that reminds us of someone, move our body in a certain way, and/or hear a certain tone (or combination of tones). It does not explain, however, how there is so much great music in the world – or why everyone deserves music.
The idea that “everyone deserves music / sweet music” is something very much at the heart of World Music Day. Not to be confused with International Music Day, World Music Day was started in France in 1982 and has been adopted by over 120 nations, including India. The idea for free concerts in open areas by a variety of musicians was first proposed by an American, Joel Cohen, as far back as 1976. In 1981, however, French Minister of Culture Jack Lang appointed musician Maurice Fleuret as the Director of Music and Dance. The duo collaborated to create an event in 1985, whereby even amateurs would be encouraged to musically express themselves in public. Fleuret said there would be “music everywhere and the concert nowhere.”
According to Johann Sebastian Bach, “[Music] should have no other end and aim than the glory of God and the re-creation of the soul, where this is not kept in mind, there is no true music, but only an infernal clamour and ranting.” A quick study of music from around the world will show that, throughout history, many people have created music that is devotional in nature. In fact, kirtan (“narrating,” “praising,” or “reciting”) is a form of bhakti (or “devotional”) yoga, where chanting is combined with music. More often than not, the chanting is related to one of the names of God, mentioned in the 108-link above.
Today’s playlist, however, has no kirtan during the 65-90 minutes of practice music. Because, well…
“Why believe in a god? Just be good for goodness’ sake.”
– bus billboard for the American Humanist Association
There are atheists everywhere, even though many people believe they are few and far between. In 2010, Mike Smith started a Facebook group to make Atheist Solidarity Day an official holiday. Even though he deleted the group soon after, people were engaged. Today, atheist celebrate June 21st as a global protest, celebration, and awareness raising event for people who don’t always have the freedom to openly express their lack of belief in “god,” whatever that means to you at this moment.
To be clear, not all humanist are atheist; however Humanists (as described by the Humanist Manifesto of 1933) are atheists. While I could call myself a humanist, I am neither a Humanist nor an atheist. Still, today’s black and red theme is in solidarity of people having the freedom to believe what serves them – as long as it doesn’t harm others.
As we are finding more and more each day, that last part is the tricky part of believing in “freedom of religion.” So many people believe that other people’s beliefs are causing them to suffer, when – in fact – it is that very belief (about other people’s beliefs) that causes suffering. Additionally, people sometimes believe that their beliefs are so correct that they should be forced on others – an attitude which can create more suffering. It’s a vicious cycle.
On World Refugee Day, with regard to personal safety, I mentioned that we are all (on a certain level) responsible for our own feelings of safety. I think the same is true about suffering. This has nothing to do with the fact that one person can harm another person or do something that causes another person to suffer. Instead, what I am saying is that if we feel unsafe in a situation, we are responsible for acknowledging that feeling and examining it to see if it is rooted in reality. Then, we act accordingly. Similarly, if we are experiencing mental and emotional anguish over another person’s beliefs, we owe it to ourselves to go deeper. Ask yourself: How does this other person’s belief affect me in the real world? Does this person’s belief (system) truly threaten my existence?
We have to be honest with ourselves and recognize our own kliṣṭa (“afflicted” or “dysfunctional”) thought patterns in order to see the roots of our own suffering. Doing so will also allow us to see how we are contributing to division in the world. In the process, doing so can bring us a little closer to “coming together” – which is, ultimately the whole point of yoga, and all these celebrations.
“My son, place your hand here in the seaand you are united with the whole world.”
– Ivan Zupa, founder of World Handshake Day,remembering the advice of an old man
Please join me today (Wednesday, June 21st)at 4:30 PM or 7:15 PM for a yoga practice on Zoom. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You will need to register for the 7:15 PM class if you have not already done so. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “06212022 Another Hard Working Day”]
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.
My apologies for not posting this before tonight’s “First Friday Night Special.” You can request an audio recording of tonight’s Restorative Yoga 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.
“IX
Calm fell. From Heaven distilled a clemency;
There was peace on earth, and silence in the sky;
Some could, some could not, shake off misery:
The Sinister Spirit sneered: ‘It had to be!’
And again the Spirit of Pity whispered, ‘Why?’”
– quoted from the poem “And There Was a Great Calm (On the Signing of the Armistice, 11 Nov 1918)” by Thomas Hardy
This has been a week of remembering;deliberately remembering and reflecting;noticing (or not);noticing,remembering, and reflecting. If we pay attention, we notice the pattern repeating – on and off the mat. We also notice, if we are paying attention, that throughout history people (like Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry David Thoreau, Walt Whitman) have consistently warned us… that we are not paying enough attention – especially to what’s simmering, churning, and bubbling beneath the surface.
And so, the pattern continues.
This is a significantly revised and expanded version of a 2020 post. The original only referenced the poet.
“And will any say when my bell of quittance is heard in the gloom, And a crossing breeze cuts a pause in its outrollings, Till they rise again, as they were a new bell’s boom, ‘He hears it not now, but used to notice such things?’”
– quoted from the poem “Afterwards” by Thomas Hardy, set to music by Lon Lord
Born June 2, 1840, Thomas Hardy (OM) was an architect who is remembered as a novelist and a poet who noticed things. I know, I know; writers notice things – that’s part of their job description: notice and write, in order to tell the world what you noticed… what they could also notice. And, to that end, Thomas Hardy wrote short stories, published almost a thousand poems, and three different kinds of novels. In character and environment driven novels like Far from the Madding Crowd (1874), The Return of the Native (1878), The Mayor of Casterbridge (1886), Tess of the d’Urbervilles (1891), and Jude the Obscure (1895), he wrote about sex, religion, marriage, class, education, morality, and where all six themes intersected with each other, as well as with a person’s individual will as it intersected with universal will (or a single other person’s will), which he called “Immanent Will.”
He wrote about being alive, being dead, and about ghosts and spirits. He also wrote, in letters, about race and the impact different cultures could have on society. He noticed things… and made some of those things important.
When he was asked to write something topical (i.e., related to the current events circa 1905 – 1917), he initially resisted. Ultimately, however, he was inspired by events in the Middle East and a passage from The Epistle of Paul the Apostle to the Ephesians (1:18 – 19)*, which speaks of hope and, also, of something powerful – mighty – working beneath the surface. As he did in so many of his other poems about conflict, Thomas Hardy continued the message of hope… and also included a warning message.
“I
When moiling seems at cease In the vague void of night-time, And heaven’s wide roomage stormless Between the dusk and light-time, And fear at last is formless, We call the allurement Peace.
II
Peace, this hid riot, Change, This revel of quick-cued mumming, This never truly being, This evermore becoming, This spinner’s wheel onfleeing Outside perception’s range.”
– the poem “According to the Mighty Working” by Thomas Hardy
Although he was not particularly devout, being inspired by sacred text was not unusual for Thomas Hardy. He noticed things about Nature and things about human nature and things about the Divine – and he noticed where all of those things overlapped, collapsed, converged, and coalesced. He was also fascinated by the idea that patterns of history are repeated and that those patterns can be found in Nature, in the Bible, and in ourselves – if we just take the time to pay attention; to, as he wrote, “notice such things.”
However, Thomas Hardy didn’t stop there. He also noticed what he (and others) noticed. He noticed the art or practice of noticing.
Take a moment to notice what you notice. Bring awareness to your awareness.
You can jump over to the April 19th “Noticing Things” post or do that “90-second thing.” Either way, pause. Just for a moment. Notice without the story or the extra dialogue that springs to mind. Or, you could take a moment to intentionally notice the extra dialogue that inevitably springs to mind. You can even emulate Thomas Hardy – the architect – and build your awareness from the ground up.
Start with what is tangible, what is solid and true beneath you and work out from there – physically, mentally, emotionally, maybe even energetically, spiritually, and religiously.
I have previously mentioned that this week is about perception and ideals. We start to notice what we notice. Then, we also start noticing what we (individually and collectively) make important. When you notice what sticks in your heart and in your mind, you will start to notice the origins of your words and deeds. You will start to notice the kind of person you are telling the world you are and aim to be.
“‘It is a difficult question, my friends, for any young man– that question I had to grapple with, and which thousands are weighing at the present moment in these uprising times– whether to follow uncritically the track he finds himself in, without considering his aptness for it, or to consider what his aptness or bent may be, and re-shape his course accordingly. I tried to do the latter, and I failed. But I don’t admit that my failure proved my view to be a wrong one, or that my success would have made it a right one; though that’s how we appraise such attempts nowadays–I mean, not by their essential soundness, but by their accidental outcomes.’”
– quoted from Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy
“‘Remember that the best and greatest among mankind are those who do themselves no worldly good. Every successful man is more or less a selfish man. The devoted fail…’”
– quoted from Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy
Now, just for a moment, turn all the things you are noticing into music. Imagine you are a musical composition by Sir Edward William Elgar (1st Baronet, OM, GCVO), who was born June 2, 1857. Like Thomas Hardy, Sir Elgar noticed things and told people about what he noticed… what they could also notice. The only difference was that he communicated his observations with music.
From October 1898 and February 1899, Sir Edward Elgar composed Variations on an Original Theme, Op. 36. Also known as the “Enigma Variations” – because the word “Enigma” was written over the first six bars – the fourteen variations are character sketches meant to invoke the personalities and temperaments (or moods) of fourteen of Sir Elgar’s friends. Each variation’s title is the nickname of the friend “pictured within.” Similar to the way Thomas Hardy noticed what others noticed (or not), Sir Elgar composed the pieces as if each person were composing their own variation/personality.
“‘I had a neat stock of fixed opinions, but they dropped away one by one; and the further I get the less sure I am. I doubt if I have anything more for my present rule of life than following inclinations which do me and nobody else any harm, and actually give pleasure to those I love best. There, gentlemen, since you wanted to know how I was getting on, I have told you. Much good may it do you! I cannot explain further here. I perceive there is something wrong somewhere in our social formulas: what it is can only be discovered by men or women with greater insight than mine–if, indeed, they ever discover it– at least in our time. ‘For who knoweth what is good for man in this life?–and who can tell a man what shall be after him under the sun?’”
– quoted from Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy
There are so many mysteries in life. But, where (or what), you might ask, is the mystery in the Sir Edward Elgar’s music? An enigma, after all, is defined as “a person or thing that is mysterious, puzzling, or difficult to understand.” The word comes to English from Greek, by way of Latin, from words meaning “fable” and “speak allusively.” Yet, the compositions and their monikers are very straightforward. Where, then, is the mystery?
According to Sir Elgar, there was an overreaching theme that tied everything together. Maybe it was musical. Maybe it was a quality, like friendship. Maybe it was an activity, like perception and awareness.
Perhaps it was simply a message between friends.
“‘I shan’t forget you, Jude,’ he said, smiling, as the cart moved off. ‘Be a good boy, remember; and be kind to animals and birds, and read all you can. And if ever you come to Christminster remember you hunt me out for old acquaintance’ sake.’
The cart creaked across the green, and disappeared round the corner by the rectory-house. The boy returned to the draw-well at the edge of the greensward, where he had left his buckets when he went to help his patron and teacher in the loading. There was a quiver in his lip now, and after opening the well-cover to begin lowering the bucket he paused and leant with his forehead and arms against the frame-work, his face wearing the fixity of a thoughtful child’s who has felt the pricks of life somewhat before his time. The well into which he was looking was as ancient as the village itself, and from his present position appeared as a long circular perspective ending in a shining disk of quivering water at a distance of a hundred feet down. There was a lining of green moss near the top, and nearer still the hart’s-tongue fern.
He said to himself, in the melodramatic tones of a whimsical boy, that the schoolmaster had drawn at that well scores of times on a morning like this, and would never draw there any more. ‘I’ve seen him look down into it, when he was tired with his drawing, just as I do now, and when he rested a bit before carrying the buckets home!’”
NOTE: The playlist is a remix of the one I typically use in April and for the birthday’s of Thomas Hardy (today) and Jon Lord (b. June 9, 1961). I may or may not update it to include more of the “Enigma Variations.”
This Restorative Yoga practice is accessible and open to all.
Prop wise,this can be a kitchen sink practice. You can practice without props or use “studio” props and/or “householder” props. Example of Commercial props: 1 – 2 blankets, 2 – 3 blocks, a bolster, a strap, and an eye pillow. Example of Householder props: 1 – 2 blankets or bath towels, 2 – 3 books (similar in size), 2 standard pillows (or 1 body pillow), a belt/tie/sash, and a face towel.
You may want extra layers (as your body may cool down during this practice). Having a wall, chair, sofa, or coffee table may be handy for this practice.
*NOTE: Although it is a modern translation (and, therefore, not the translation Thomas Hardy used), The Christian Standard Bible translation of Ephesians (1:18 – 19) is the only one I found that directly syncs up with Thomas Hardy’s poem title. “(18) I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened so that you may know what is the hope of his calling, what is the wealth of his glorious inheritance in the saints, (19) and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power toward us who believe, according to the mighty working of his strength.”
“Chag Sameach!” to everyone celebrating Shavuot. Many blessings to everyone everywhere!
“40. As the billows and waves, the surges and eddies, and their froths and foams, and bubbles and minute particles, are all formations of water in the great body of waters; so are all beings but productions of the spirit in the Infinite spirit. (All matter is reduced to the spirits, and the spirits are consolidated to material substances by chemical process).”
“78. The belief that I am the pure and all pervading intellect, is attended with the purity and holiness of the soul, and the knowledge of the Divine power as the cause of the union of earth, air and water in the production of the germ of creation, is the main creed of all creeds.”
– quoted from (Book 6) “CHAPTER XI. Ascertainment of Living Liberation.” of The Yoga-Vasishtha Maharamayana of Valmiki (translated from the original Sanskrit by VIHARI-LALA MITRA)
Last night, I experienced something just as fabulous as I expected and (unfortunately) just as horrible as I feared. But, in the middle of the horrible, I knew….
I knew, as the stoic Emperor Marcus Aurelius did, that I had “seen the beauty of good, and the ugliness of evil, and have recognized that the wrongdoer has a nature related to my own – not of the same blood and birth, but the same mind, and possessing a share of the divine. And so none of them can hurt me. No one can implicate me in ugliness.” And I knew – as he did, as Vasishtha did – that we are all connected. I also knew that, whether we liked it or not, I would have a hand in how things unfolded, how the world (in those moments) was created.
While I remembered the incident that I posted about in 2020, I had forgotten that I posted the post below. I did, however, remember the lesson… and that was the grace.
Grace in.
Grace out.
For Those Who Missed It: The following was originally posted today in 2020. I have updated class details and some relevant information.
“But it seems reasonable to believe — and I do believe — that the more clearly we can focus our attention on the wonders and realities of the universe about us the less taste we shall have for the destruction of our race. Wonder and humility are wholesome emotions, and they do not exist side by side with a lust for destruction.”
– Rachel Carson accepting the John Burroughs Medal (April 1952) and printed in Lost Woods: The Discovered Writing of Rachel Carson
“It had been Nashibitti who had taught Leaphorn the words and legends of the Blessing Way, taught him what the Holy People had told the Earth Surface People about how to live, taught him the lessons of the Changing Woman – that the only goal for man was beauty, and that beauty was found only in harmony, and that this harmony of nature was a matter of dazzling complexity.”
– from Dance Hall of the Dead (Navajo Mysteries #2) by Tony Hillerman
This week, as we step back and really take a look at “role models,” the roles of our ancestors and elders, and the lessons they’ve taught us about how to live and interact with ourselves and each other, I thought we might take a moment to consider how we’ve learned to live and interact with the planet we call home. Behavioral scientists, and people who are interested in the science of our behaviors, are quick to point to incidences of animal mutilation in childhood whenever someone perpetrates great violence against humanity. There were signs, you see. And, sometimes, we missed the signs or didn’t pay enough attention to the signs.
A recent incident in New York sheds an interesting light on this subject, especially when it is viewed through the lens of everything else that is happening around us. In a situation where one person is committing emotional violence against another person and physical violence against a pet, some people quickly turn their focus on the pet’s distress. Others condemn such a reaction. However, it’s a very real and honest reaction. Rather than condemning how someone else reacts to trauma, I suggest we go deeper.
“‘Don’t think a man don’t care about one goat because he’s got a thousand of ‘em,’ Hosteen Nakai would say. ‘He’s got a thousand because he cares more about goats than he cares about his relatives.’”
– from People of Darkness (Navajo Mysteries #4) by Tony Hillerman
People who react to the pet’s distress (what they can see as well as hear), as opposed to the other person’s distress (what they may not be able to hear or completely understand as they cannot see the person) are still expressing empathy. This is important, because when scientist, writers, and lay people talk about childhood instances of animal mutilation part of their focus is on a lack of empathy. So, first and foremost consider the importance of empathy. While empathy is a natural emotion , we learn lessons throughout our lives about whether or not to trust – let alone engage – emotions like empathy. If we don’t trust our own emotions and intuition, it’s harder – almost impossible – to trust the emotions of others.
EMPATHY [Greek > German] – The action of understanding, being aware of, being sensitive to, and vicariously experiencing the feelings, thoughts, and experience of another…without having the feelings, thoughts, and experiences fully communicated in an objective and explicit manner.
SYMPATHY [Greek >> Latin] – Feelings of pity and sorrow for someone else’s misfortune.
COMPASSION [Latin>> Old French > Middle English] – To suffer with.
There is a difference between empathy, sympathy, and compassion – and the difference is critical. Compassion and sympathy are a much older words than empathy. Compassion refers to our ability to understand another’s pain and suffering, and to simultaneously have the desire that the other’s pain and suffering ends. Sympathy holds multiple meanings, including “having an affinity, association, or relationship between persons or things wherein whatever affects one similarly affects the other” and “a feeling of loyalty; tendency to favor or support.” When we speak in terms of the emotional experience of sympathy, however, there is a layer of pity. That is to say, our feelings of sympathy are more often than not associated with the feeling that someone of something is beneath us: we feel sorry for them. Furthermore, while we may feel sorry for someone, we may not every feel or express the desire that their pain and suffering ends. We may not ever make the connection between what they feel and what we can feel.
Empathy, on the other hand, is the emotion that bridges the gap between what we are feeling and what another is feeling. Coined (from German) by English psychologist Edward Bradford Titchener, the word “empathy” was used in the early 1900’s to describe the process of projecting one’s own emotions (and thoughts) onto another person or object. This emotional projection was considered a kind of animation or emotional play that allowed one to feel kinship (or sympathy) with another. Over time (and thanks in part to the work of experimental psychologist and sleep expert Rosalind Dymond Cartwright, in collaboration with her mentor, sociologist Leonard Cottrell), the word “empathy” became associated with the final experience: feeling the same as another, without experiencing what the other experiences.
“‘I didn’t want to believe it. Too many old friends are dying. I didn’t really think I could learn anything about that diamond out here. I just wanted to see if I could bring back some old memories…. Maybe it would help me get into harmony with living with so many of my friends gone.’”
– from Skeleton Man (Navajo Mysteries #17) by Tony Hillerman
Some of Dr. Cartwright’s research focused on how empathy related to a patient’s “need to change” and ability to progress in therapy. So, there is the even deeper side to the conversation on empathy. The role empathy plays in allowing us to put ourselves in someone else’s shoes may also be the role it plays in our ability to change.
As you consider that, also consider the last time you paused and really considered why you react to what you can see more than what you feel?
Writers and other artists are in the business of creating work that cultivates empathy. It’s why most of us can say, would say, we have never been a dog – but on a certain level we can imagine a dog’s life (as there are plenty of books and movies that have encouraged that viewpoint). Rachel Carson (born today in 1907) started Silent Spring with a parable, in part to elicit empathy for Nature before she started getting into the science. Tony Hillerman (born today in 1925) was a veteran and a journalist who wrote 18 novels about Navajo police officers and their role in protecting the people, the heritage, and the landscape within their keeping. If you miss the fact that Joe Leaphorn and Jim Chee are environmental and cultural gatekeepers, you missed part of what made Hillerman’s work so emotionally compelling.
“‘Everything is connected. The wing of the corn beetle affects the direction of the wind, the way the sand drifts, the way the light reflects into the eye of man beholding his reality. All is part of totality, and in this totality man finds his hozro, his way of walking in harmony, with beauty all around him.’”
– from The Ghostway (Navajo Mysteries #6) by Tony Hillerman
“In these troubled times it is a wholesome and necessary thing for us to turn again to the earth and in the contemplation of her beauties to know the sense of wonder and humility. There is modern truth to the ancient wisdom of the psalmist: `I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.’”
– from Rachel Carson’s original submission to “Words to Live By” for This Week Magazine (1951)
The question now becomes, when was the last time you put yourself in the shoes of someone you perceive to be different from you? When was the last time you imagined the life of someone whose life experience and life lessons are very different – or may seem very different – from yours? When was the last time you empathized without sympathizing (or pitying) another?
These are tricky questions that lead to a tricky conversation. And, while I say “conversation,” understand that the conversation is mostly an internal dialogue. Discernment, recognizing the movements of one’s own heart, is an internal process. Sure, we can have conversation with one another, but that requires gut-wrenching honesty. In order to have that gut-wrenching honesty with another person, we must first have it with ourselves. And that’s the tricky part: gut-wrenching honesty is gut-wrenching for a reason; it’s painful and pain is one of those things we want to avoid at all costs. So, rather than truly feel another’s pain – rather than truly feel our own pain – we “pity the fool” and go on about our day.
“We stand now where two roads diverge. But unlike the roads in Robert Frost’s familiar poem, they are not equally fair. The road we have long been traveling is deceptively easy, a smooth superhighway on which we progress with great speed, but at its end lies disaster. The other fork of the road — the one less traveled by — offers our last, our only chance to reach a destination that assures the preservation of the earth.”
– from Silent Spring by Rachel Carson
“It was not a Navajo concept, this idea of adjusting nature to human needs. The Navajo adjusted himself to remain in harmony with the universe. When nature withheld the rain, the Navajo sought the pattern of this phenomenon – as he sought the pattern of all things – to find its beauty and live in harmony with it. Now Leaphorn sought the pattern in the conduct of a man who had tried to kill a policemen rather than accepting a speeding ticket.”
– from Listening Woman (Navajo Mysteries #3) by Tony Hillerman
In Coyote Waits (one of my favorite Leaphorn and Chee mysteries), Hillerman wrote, “‘I think from where we stand the rain seems random. If we stand somewhere else, we see the order in it.” The Sanskrit word vinyasa means “to place in a special way” and shares a root with vipassana, which means “to see in a special way.” The practice is all about order, and also about what we think (and see) because of where we stand. It also, gives us an opportunity to stand (and see) in another place/way and to find harmony. Remember, we cannot understand what our minds have not shown us.
Please join me for a 90-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Saturday, May 27th) at 12:00 PM.Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra(at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube andSpotify. [Look for “05272020 Carson & Hillerman”]
Don’t forget that you can request an audio recording of any class via a comment below. If you have been thinking about joining us, but haven’t been able to work it out, this is the week to request a class recording. If one of the themes from this week doesn’t immediately resonate, I am happy to offer a suggestion.
“‘Terrible drought, crops dead, sheep dying. Spring dried up. No water. The Hopi, and the Christian, maybe the Moslem, they pray for rain. The Navajo has the proper ceremony done to restore himself to harmony with the drought. You see what I mean. The system is designed to recognize what’s beyond human power to change, and then to change the human’s attitude to be content with the inevitable. ’”
– from Sacred Clowns (Navajo Mysteries #11) by Tony Hillerman
“Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature — the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.”
– from Silent Spring by Rachel Carson
If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can dial 988 (in the US) or call 1-800-273-TALK (8255). 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.
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.)
For Those Who Missed It:The following was originally posted today in 2022. In addition to some slight edits, this post includes updated class details and a remixed playlist.
“Our goal should be to live life in radical amazement. …get up in the morning and look at the world in a way that takes nothing for granted. Everything is phenomenal; everything is incredible; never treat life casually. To be spiritual is to be amazed.”
– Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel
In American English, “bad” has two meanings, one of which is “even better than good.” The saying “bad to the bone” fits with that positive description and is often associated with someone who is “cool,” rebellious, and radical in a way that bucks the system… in a way, even, that can bring much needed change. There are some people who play with the idea of being “bad to the bones,” but the truth is that that kind of goodness has nothing to do with the clothes one wears so much as it has to do with what’s underneath, what’s at the core and the roots of a person. In other words, what matters is who they are all the way down to their bones.
One of my favorite inspirational reminders is based on the idea that, in Judaism, there are 248 mitzvot aseh (“positive commandments”), which are commands to perform certain activities, and 365 mitzvot lo taaseh (“negative commandments”), which are commands to abstain from certain activities; meaning, we should avoid avoid the negative things every day of the year and do the good things with “every bone in our body.”* To me, someone who manages to do that in a very public way is “bad to the bone.”
“Our concern is not how to worship in the catacombs but how to remain human in the skyscrapers.”
– quoted from “Part V: The Meaning of this Hour – 40. Religion in Modern Society” in Between God and Man by Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel
It is one thing to practice our beliefs and hold tight (but not too tightly) to the tenets of our faith, whatever that means to you, when life is good and everything is easy. But life, as we have recently been reminded, can be hard, twisted, upside down, and backwards; in a word, challenging. So, sometimes the best way to notice how we show up in the world, in general, is to specifically notice how we show up in stressful / challenging situations. For instance, what is your habit when things are so challenging and all consuming, people – including yourself – might expect you to compromise?
I don’t know much about the person who (first) asked Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel if he found time to pray when he participated in the march from Selma to Montgomery, but I know the person – a journalist – was motivated by at least two pieces of knowledge: (1) they knew Rabbi Heschel was a man of faith and (2) they probably knew that Judaism prescribes daily prayers throughout the day. There is another possible piece of motivating knowledge, projection – it’s possible, probable even, that the person asking the question couldn’t imagine how prayer was possible during such a tumultuous time and in a situation where the faithful rabbi was surrounded by Christians. But, here’s the thing about Rabbi Heschel, he was use to praying with his whole body and he was use to being surrounded by Christians.
“I prayed with my feet.”
– Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel in 1965, when asked if he found time to pray when marching from Selma to Montgomery
Born today in 1907, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel was a professor of the Kabbalah (Jewish mysticism), an activist, and is (to this day) considered one of the most significant and influential theologians of the 20th century. The youngest of six, his father died when he was nine, but his family was firmly established in the community, as he was the descendant of distinguished Chasidic rabbis on both sides of his family. He grew up in a household and in a religious tradition where prayer and a declaration of faith were prescribed multiple times a day – “when you sit in your house and when you walk on the road, when you lie down and when you rise” – and where there was an obligation to leave the world better than it was found. He earned his rabbinical doctorate in Berlin during the rise of the Nazi Party and could chronicle a parallel in that rise and a decline in the esteem he had previously received based on the merit of his scholarship. At times he felt abandoned by his Christian teachers, mentors, and peers. But, there was something in him – maybe everything in him – that could not step away from the spiritual path he was on, a path first paved by the prophets and rabbis whose lives he chronicled.
In addition to writing several biographies about his mystical elders, Rabbi Heschel was a student and a professor of Jewish mysticism (Kabbalism), in which the Tree of Life can be seen as a way to understand the world, a way to live in the world, and a spiritual road map for those desiring a deeper connection. He was in the habit of viewing, exploring, and gaining understanding of the world and his engagement in the world through the lens of this tradition that recognizes seven areas of the body as ways to express seven of the ten energies/attributes of the Divine (as found on the Tree of Life):
Chesed (“loving-kindness”), right arm;
Gevurah (“strength”), left arm;
Tiferet (“beauty,” “balance,” or “compassion”), the heart;
Netzach (“endurance”), right hip and leg;
Hod (“humility”), left hip and leg;
Yesod (“Foundation” or “Bonding”), solar plexus;
Malchut (“mastery” or “nobility”), hands, feet, and mouth.
Being in the habit of seeing the body as something intended to express elements of the Divine, meant that everything Rabbi Heschel did could be seen as a religious / spiritual experience. Everything was symbolic – and, therefore, the simplest things held great power.
Of course, there was nothing simple about showing up at a Civil Rights demonstration at the height (and site) of defining violence. Yet, for Rabbi Heschel there was no question that he would show up. He knew that his presence, like the presence of so many others who were not Black (and, in his case, not Christian), would be a unifying presence. He knew that showing up sent a message to the world indicating that the issue of civil rights was not only “an American problem,” as President Lyndon B. Johnson would later say, but also an international problem.
Additionally, as a man of faith and as a religious leader, Rabbi Heschel simply felt that showing up was a kind of spiritual obligation. In fact, he sent a telegram (dated June 16, 1963) to President John F. Kennedy stating that to continue humiliating (and subjugating) African Americans meant that they (religious leaders) “forfeit the right to worship God.” Let it sink in for a moment that a Jewish mystic demanded leadership in the form of “moral grandeur and spiritual audacity” from a Catholic president on behalf of a group of people led by Black Baptist minister. There’s a lot there that could be divisive – unless, regardless of your religion or denomination, you are bound by the Spirit.
“For my father, though, the march was not simply a political demonstration, but a religious occasion. He saw it as a revival of prophetic Judaism’s political activism and also of the traditions of Hasidism, a Jewish pietistic revival movement that arose in the late eighteenth century, according to which walking could be a spiritual experience.
He said it reminded him of the message of the prophets, whose primary concern was social injustice, and of his Hasidic forebears, for whom compassion for the suffering of other people defined a religious person.”
– quoted from an article about the 40th Anniversary of the Selma-Montgomery marches, by Dr. Susannah Heschel
In addition to marching arm-in-arm with Black Christians like Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and Representative John Lewis in 1965, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel also participated in the Second Ecumenical Council of the Vatican (more commonly known as the Second Vatican Council or Vatican II) in 1962. Prior to Vatican II, the Roman Catholic Church was “in the habit” of teaching the history of Jesus in a way that demonized Jewish people – and missed the part where a lot of different groups of people were part of the story. Rabbi Heschel worked closely with Cardinal Augustin Bea, the Jesuit head of the Secretariat for the Christian Unity, to write the Nostra aetate, which dynamical changed the way the Church teaches and views Jewish people; fostered mutual knowledge and respect among congregants of the two faiths; and ensured that the Church officially (and categorically) condemned anti-Semitism. Here too, the good rabbi’s work outside of the synagogue was a reflection of his work inside of the synagogue, and vice versa. Here too, he honored the traditions (and the ethics) of his spiritual fathers.
Here too, Rabbi Heschel’s spiritual habits showed everyone who was in the habit of being.
“We do not step out of the world when we pray; we merely see the world in a different setting. The self is not the hub but the spoke of the revolving wheel. It is precisely the function of prayer to shift the center of living from self-consciousness to self-surrender….
Prayer takes the mind out of the narrowness of self-interest and enables us to see the world in the mirror of the holy.”
– quoted from Man’s Quest for God: Studies in Prayer and Symbolism by Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel
Please join me today (Wednesday, January 11th) at 4:30 PM or 7:15 PM for a yoga practice on Zoom.Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You will need to register for the 7:15 PM class if you have not already done so. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, playlists, 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 to Common Ground are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.)
*NOTE: The aforementioned aphorism is based on an ancient Hebrew idea that there are 248 bones or significant organs in the body.
Please wear loose, comfortable clothing and make sure you are well hydrated before the practice. It is best to practice on an empty stomach (especially for the 108 ajapa-japa mala), but if you must eat less than 1 hour before the practice, make sure to keep it light. Make sure to have a towel (at the very least) for the 108 practice. For Yin Yoga, a pillow/cushion or two, blocks or (hardcover) books, and a blanket or towel will be useful. I always recommend having something handy (pen and paper) that you can use to note any reflections.
Use the link above for login information (or click here for more details about these practices and other practice opportunities related to the New Year).
The 108 playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “New Year’s Day 108 Ajapa-Japa Mala.”] NOTE: This playlist has been revised for 2022, but should still sync up with the 2021 recordings.
The Yin+Meditation playlist is part of the “12042020 Bedtime Yoga” available on YouTube and Spotify.
Please note that there is still no late admittance and you must log in before the beginning of the practice (so, by 9:45 AM for the 108 or by 4:45 PM for the Yin+Meditation). You will be re-admittance if you get dumped from the call.)
Part of the 6-piece “Monumental Moments” series by Anthony Shumate, 2015 (located in Buffalo Bayou Park, along the Kinder Footpaths)
Part of the 6-piece “Monumental Moments” series by Anthony Shumate, 2015 (located in Buffalo Bayou Park, along the Kinder Footpaths)
*Anthony Shumate’s “Monumental Moments” sculptures are located in Buffalo Bayou Park, along the Kinder Footpaths in Houston, Texas. They are unexpected reminders to “Explore,” “Pause,” “Reflect,” “Listen,” “Emerge,” and “Observe” – all things we do in our practice!
“Kwanzaa, yenu iwe na heri!” – “May your Kwanzaa be happy!” to everyone who is celebrating!
The commentary below was originally posted for the fifth day of Kwanzaa 2020 (which was Friday in 2022) AND included information about the annual New Year’s Day practices. There was no class today, but you can always request the audio recording, from 2020, via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com. The New Year’s information has been updated!
The playlist for the fifth day of Kwanzaa is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “12302020 Purpose Driven”]
NOTE: A track may not play due to artists’ protests.
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 or donations for New Year’s Day are not necessarily deductible.]
“There are, of course, inherent tendencies to repetition in music itself. Our poetry, our ballads, our songs are full of repetition; nursery rhymes and the little chants and songs we use to teach young children have choruses and refrains. We are attracted to repetition, even as adults; we want the stimulus and the reward again and again, and in music we get it.”
– quoted from Musicophilia: Tales of Music and the Brain by Dr. Oliver Sacks
For those of you keeping count, Wednesday and Thursday make up we’ve reached the 5th, 6th, and/or 7th “Days of Christmas” (depending on when you start counting). According to the catechism myth attached to the “12 Days of Christmas” song, the gifts for these days translates to: “a partridge in a pear tree” for Jesus (and the cross); “two turtle doves” representing the Old and New Testament; “three French Hens” for the theological virtues of Faith, Hope, and Charity (Love); “four calling birds” for the four canonical New Testament Gospels (or their corresponding evangelicals, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John); “five gold rings” are the first Five Books of the Hebrew Bible and the Christian Old Testament (which provide the back story for the three Abrahamic religions); “six geese a-laying” for the six days of creation; and “seven swans a-swimming,” the consistently most expensive gift, stand for the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit (wisdom, understanding, knowledge, counsel, fortitude, piety, and fear of the Lord) or the seven sacraments (Baptism, Eucharist, Confirmation, Reconciliation, Anointing of the Six, Marriage, and Ordination).
Given the Oliver Sacks quote above, you might wonder if that musical “stimulus and reward” are the only reason I keep repeating aspects of this myth (that even advocates accept is not historically true). The truth is that while there is something truly appealing, on a musical level, to the whole idea, the main reason I keep referring back to myth is because it serves a purpose. And, if we’re going to talk about faith, we have to talk about purpose.
There was a time when everything people did had purpose, had meaning. Rituals were the way people made sense of the world and the way people stayed connected to each other and to what they valued. This is another reason why I like the “12 Days of Christmas” catechism idea. Over time, however, some rituals lost their meaning – or people became separated from the meaning. Rituals separated from their meaning became traditions; behavior people did because their elders taught them the ways of their ancestors… but without the deeper connection. In some cases, people lost so much of the meaning, became so separated from the meaning, that they were just things people said. I could be wrong about this, but I partially blame the Age of Enlightenment / Age of Reason for some of that lost / disconnected meaning.
The 18th Century Age of Enlightenment / Age of Reason, which was preceded by the emergence of the modern sciences, was a time when people started feeling confident in their ability to find the reason behind all the mysteries in the world. Don’t get me wrong; there were, and are, still great unknowns / mysteries in the world. But, as the Western world (in particular) started moving out of the Middle Ages, there was a steadfast belief that the answers to everything were available to the human mind. As more and more people focused on “finding the truth,” some moved away from mysticism – and, when as there was less acceptance of mystery and less acceptance of the unknown, there was less “need” for ritual. Or so it would seem. The truth, however, is that even as we gained knowledge and lost mystery, humans craved ritual. In fact, some would say that our brains are wired for ritual.
“And I actually think one of the great things about getting older, about being in my 50s, they say that when we’re younger our brains are tuned to novelty, to be animated by novelty. But as you get older, you’re less tuned to novelty and I would say more naturally attuned to kind of take pleasure in what is ordinary and habitual. And I think that’s a great gift.”
– Krista Tippett, being interviewed by Pico Iyer, about her book Becoming Wise: An Inquiry into the Mystery and Art of Living, on “The Mystery & Art if Living” episode of On Being (with Krista Tippett (July 10, 2016)
In the 19th and 20th centuries, the social pendulum swung back and people started seeking ritual, returning to mystery and mysticism as well as the comfort that can be found in repeated behavior. We see this in the resurgence of the physical practice of yoga in India and to the way the practice eventually spread into the Western world. We also see this in the emergence of mega churches and the wave of young women considering the convent. We even see this in the fact that some atheists have “church.” The only problem with this swing back to ritual was that sometimes people overlooked what was gained during the Age of Enlightenment / Age of Reason and focused on the outer (superficial) aspects of rituals rather than the inward (meaning-filled) experience. Moving into the end of the 20th century and the beginning of the 21st century, this trend led people to spend copious amounts of money trying to recreate ancient rituals that were previously free – all to get that deeper feeling of connection. The problem was the lasting connection people were seeking doesn’t come from the outside. Yes, we can see it on the outside. Absolutely! But, deep, lasting, sustainable connection starts with an internal purpose.
A key aspect to ritual is the purpose behind what is done, how it is done, and when (i.e., the order in which it is done). Again, everything has a purpose and that purpose reinforces the repeated behavior which, in turn, reinforces the connection to others observing the ritual. In fact, that reinforcement of connection is another purpose found in ritual. A perfect example of this is the repetition of prayer or chanting, especially when there is an embodied component. The embodied component could be someone praying with a rosary, chanting with mala beads, whirling (in the Sufi tradition), or practicing 108 Sun Salutations; either way, there are very specific ways that the words are uttered or thought and very specific ways the body moves – even when it is just the fingers and the hands moving.
In Sanskrit, such a ritual is referred to as ajapa-japa, “without (mental effort) effort repeat-repeat” or “repeat and remember”. Over time, the practice reinforces itself in such a way that it turns into itself and, in doing so, turns the practitioner inward. Over time, the meaning of the words and/or movement is completely embodied so that there is seamlessness between the doer and the doing. The practice becomes ingrained. It becomes like breathing, which can be another form of ajapa-japa.
I could go into all kinds of scientific detail about how this happens and why it works. But, just for a moment, be open to the mystery… and just focus on the purpose.
“You can perform japa, repetition of a mantra or Sacred Word, in the midst of your day-to-day work. Then, when it becomes a habit, even when you are working intensely a portion of the mind will keep repeating the mantra always. That means you have locked one end of your chain to a holy place, while the rest of the chain remains still in the outside world.”
– a note written by Swami Satchidananda, quoted in Sri Swami Satchidananda: Apostle of Peace by Sita (Joan Weiner) Bordow
Feast / Holy Days are celebrations of sacred mysteries and significant events. Note that even when the focus is tied to a specific person (martyr or saint, including Jesus and the Virgin Mary), there is a connection to miracles, which are beyond science – in other words, more mystery). In addition to serving the purpose of commemoration / remembrance, feast days stimulate excitement around spirituality and help people embody the stories and history of their faith. In Christianity, particularly in the Catholic tradition, the order of the feast / holy days (throughout the year) is its own ritual storytelling. In fact, the Roman Catholic Church has a history of calendar reforms that have served the purpose of reinforcing the liturgical aspects of their rituals, thereby bringing faith into the foreground of people’s lives. Keep in mind, however, that this tradition did not start with the Christianity. The Hebrew Bible is full of commands from God about what to do, when to do it, and how to do it.
“The philosopher Abraham Kaplan calculated that over 60 percent of Judaism’s 613 commandments involve physical ritual: lighting candles, ritual baths, etc. These deeds are a kind of language, a way of expressing things that are too deep for words.”
– quoted from a New York Times letter to the editor entitled, “There Should Be More Rituals” by David Brooks (dated April 22, 2019)
Kwanzaa, the African-American holiday of light, incorporates rituals and traditions from several different faiths and several different cultures. As is often the case, these rituals are centered around symbolic objects: a mkeka (“mat”); kinara (“candelabra”); Mishumaa Saba (“seven candles,” one black, three red, and three green which symbolize the Black community, the historical struggles faced by the community, and the future possibilities of the community); mazao (“crops”); Muhindi (decorative as well as edible “corn”); a Kikombe a cha Umoja (“unity cup”); and Zawadi (ceremonial “gifts”). People often incorporate kente cloth and other Afrocentric decorations, such as black, red, and green Pan-African flag.
During Kwanzaa celebrations, people take a moment to pause and reflect, focus, concentrate, meditate, and contemplate one of the Nguzo Saba (“seven essential pillars”). On December 30th, the fifth day of Kwanzaa, people focus on the principle of Nia (“purpose”): To make our collective vocation the building and development of our community in order to restore our people to their traditional greatness. In other words, there is a reminder, in the middle of the week, that this is a purpose driven festival and that the future of the community depends on people being purpose driven in a way that brings about individual and collective healing.
When I started thinking about the posts and classes for this week, and in particular about how to address the fifth principle of Kwanzaa, I wanted to offer little bits of purpose about everything we were doing in the physical practice and also bits of purpose about various celebrations happening around the world. In considering all the different celebrations that fit under the rubric of ritual, and all the purposes behind the ways people are currently celebrating their holidays, it occurred to me that all these rituals share two common purposes: they bring people together (in peace) and they bring people closer to something bigger than themselves, something Universal, something Divine (whatever that means to you at this moment).
“My research over the last decade has helped understand why rituals in particular (and not any other behaviors like habits, for instance) are effective at battling negative emotions. Be it anxiety, stress, fear, doubt, sadness, grief – you name it. Rituals are there to save the day. The dread we feel after experiencing a loss happens because it feels like the situation is outside our control (and it usually is). Rituals reinstate that control.
Consider, for instance, in moments of grief, rituals help ease our pain and suffering. But, again I ask, how do they do this, and why rituals in particular? As my collaborators Mike Norton and Francesca Gino have shown, rituals alleviate feeling of grief and loss by increasing a feelings of control.”
– quoted from “The emerging science of ritual – a new look on an ancient behavior: And how you can use it to live life to the fullest” by Dr. Nick Hobson (contributing to the ThriveGlobal.com, Dec. 7, 2017)
For over a decade, I have started the New Year by leading at least one 3-hour japa-ajapamala of 108 Sun Salutations. For the last several years, I have wrapped up New Year’s Day with a 2-hour Yin+Meditation practice. The practices are very, very different. Although we do mix it up and break it down a little (so that it is accessible to everyone), the 108 mala is very vigorous and repeats 12 poses in a very specific sequence. (You can see some of the reasons for that number here and here.) The Yin+Mediation combines the meditative aspects of deep seated mediation with specific poses held 3 – 5 minutes in order to address the deep tissue, joints, and connective tissue. Props are useful for both practices, but are definitive part of the Yin Yoga practice – and you can use some household items as props.
So, the practices are very different and yet they both help us to move through this liminal or “threshold” time between the old and the new years. Also, they each incorporate key elements of ritual and allow us to tap into the power of intention as well as community.
This year is different, obviously. Because of the pandemic we are on Zoom for both events (which means that there is no limit to the number of participants). It will feel different as we won’t be so close together and, unless you have your heat turned up, the 108 might not steam up the windows or get your walls all slimy.
However, for all that is different, there are some things that stay the same. I will still keep count and guide you through the experience. We will still set intentions and dedications for each round and plant some karmic seeds. We will still have the opportunity to “burn some karma” in the 108 and release some tension (in both practices). We will still have moments of reflection and insight – and, whatever comes, we will still begin and end and move through it all together.
Please note that there is still no late admittance and you must log in before the beginning of the practice (so, by 9:45 AM for the 108 or by 4:45 PM for the Yin+Meditation). You will be re-admitted if you get dumped from the call.)
Umoja (unity)—To strive for and maintain unity in the family, community, nation, and race.
Kujichagulia (self-determination)—To define ourselves, name ourselves, create for ourselves, and speak for ourselves.
Ujima (collective work and responsibility)—To build and maintain our community together and make our brother’s and sister’s problems our problems and to solve them together.
Ujamaa (cooperative economics)—To build and maintain our own stores, shops, and other businesses and to profit from them together.
Nia (purpose)—To make our collective vocation the building and development of our community in order to restore our people to their traditional greatness.
Kuumba (creativity)—To do always as much as we can, in the way we can, in order to leave our community more beautiful and beneficial than we inherited it.
Imani (faith)—To believe with all our heart in our people, our parents, our teachers, our leaders, and the righteousness and victory of our struggle.”
– The Nguzo Saba (or “Seven Essential Pillars”) of Kwanzaa
For Those Who Missed It:The following was originally posted in 2020. This slight revision includes updated class details and music links, plus a link to my “9 Days” series.
“According to Yoga philosophy, the causes of our thought patterns have a much deeper source than we normally realize. Our inner world is propelled by our habits, which in turn govern and determine the nature of our emotions, thoughts, speech, and actions. Our habits form our personality. They have a powerful influence on our unconscious behavior, as well as on our conscious decisions.”
– commentary on Yoga Sūtra 1.12 from The Secret of the Yoga Sutra: Samadhi Pada by Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, PhD
Habits: The things we do repeatedly, routinely, sometimes without thought or consideration. There are habits we label as “good” and others we label as “bad” – and then there are the ones that just are. There are habits we cultivate and others we may attempt to break. Even as people talk about all the different external factors to cultivating or breaking a habit – like how many days it takes (20, 30, or 40) and what life hacks enable them (like leaving your running shoes by the door, pre-packing your gym bag, or setting your phone to shut down media after a certain time) – habits, like all muscle memory, are ultimately mental exercises.
Even though we may not think very much about certain habits, they are happening because of what’s going on inside of our brains. We do something for the first time and a neural pathway is formed. We repeat the behavior enough times and the pathway is hardwired. Suddenly we feel compelled to do something or we think “it’s just what I/we do.” Even sometimes when the behavior is detrimental, harmful, to ourselves and others; we may not give it a second thought. In the Yoga Philosophy, such deeply ingrained or embedded habits (regardless of if we consider them “good” or “bad”) are considered vāsanās (“dwelling places”), which are based on samskaras (“mental impressions”). While such habits can feel instinctual, they are in fact conditioned.
“It is not accidental that all phenomena of human life are dominated by the search for daily bread – the oldest link connecting all living things, man included, with the surrounding nature.”
– quoted from the Dec. 12, 1904 Nobel Lecture “Physiology of Digestion” by Dr. Ivan Pavlov, winner of the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine
For most of his life, Dr. Ivan Petrovich Pavlov celebrated his birthday today, September 14th. It was his habit. Born in Ryazan in 1849, he would be 68 when the Russian Empire switched from the Julian to the Gregorian calendar (at which point his date of birth would be recognized as September 26th). Imagine if you had lived 68 years, doing things with a certain reference point in mind and then, suddenly, that reference point changed. Now, I can’t say for sure that it phased the Nobel laureate one way or the other – I don’t even know how (or if) he celebrated his birthday. What I do know is that Dr. Pavlov knew a thing or two about habits.
The oldest of 11, and known as a curious and active child, Ivan Pavlov started school late because of an accident. He went to theological seminary for a bit, but his curiosity ultimately led him to the university at St. Petersburg and the field of medical research. He won several awards throughout his career, including the 1904 Nobel Prize for Physiology and Medicine “in recognition of his work on the physiology of digestion, through which knowledge on vital aspects of the subject has been transformed and enlarged.” The Nobel Committee’s description of why Dr. Pavlov won was in part a nod to the fact that he had been nominated four years in a row (starting in 1901). His ultimate win, however, was the direct result of experiments exploring the gastric function of dogs (and children).
Dr. Pavlov first noted that dogs started salivating before their food was actually delivered. He initially called the physiological anticipation, “psychic secretion,” but eventually his reflex system work would be viewed within the paradigm of classical conditioning, respondent conditioning, or Pavlovian conditioning. He was one of the first scientists to associate behavioral responses to environmental stimuli, and his research has been extended into various aspects of psychology, behavior modification therapy, and learning theory. Literally right up until his death, he hosted “Wednesday meetings,” where he discussed everything from physiology and psychology to his views on the treatment of animals by research scientists. While other scientists routinely cited him and his work, Dr. Pavlov has also been immortalized by fiction writers like Aldus Huxley, Anthony Burgess, and Thomas Pynchon. In fact, his work was so instrumental in our understanding of the mind-body connection that people who have never studied medical physiology are aware of “the Pavlovian response.
“When the dog is repeatedly teased with the sight of objects inducing salivary secretion from a distance, the reaction of the salivary glands grows weaker and weaker and finally drops to zero. The shorter the intervals between repeated stimulations the quicker the reaction reaches zero, and vice versa. These rules apply fully only when the conditions of the experiment are kept unchanged…. These relations also explain the real meaning of the above-mentioned identity of experimental conditions; every detail of the surrounding objects appears to be a new stimulus. If a certain stimulus has lost its influence, it can recover the latter only after a long resting that has to last several hours.
The lost action, however, can also be restored with certainty at any time by special measures.”
– quoted from the Dec. 12, 1904 Nobel Lecture “Physiology of Digestion” by Dr. Ivan Pavlov, winner of the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine
While Ivan Pavlov and the Pavlovian response are often associated with the ringing of a bell, his written records indicate a plethora of external stimuli, including visual stimuli. Ultimately, he explains that what is most important is that the conditions are controlled and that the test subjects had control of their faculties. In fact, he used the global platform of his Nobel lecture to state, categorically, “Our success was mainly due to the fact that we stimulated the nerves of animals that easily stood on their own feet and were not subjected to any painful stimulus either during or immediately before stimulation of their nerves.” On another occasion, Dr. Pavlov encouraged scientists to be curious and not “a mere recorder of facts.” His lessons and research run parallel to the elements of practice which Patanjali described thousands of years before as being a method of controlling the activities of the mind, including the mental impressions known as samskaras and those deeply embedded habits known as vāsanās.
Take a moment to consider what habits you’ve have been developing that you we may or may not have intended to cultivate
“abhyāsa vairāgyābhyāṁ tat nirodhaḥ” (YS 1.12)
abhyāsa Practice over a long period/without interruption
vairāgyābhyāṁ Non-attachment, without attraction or aversion
tat Those (referring to the “fluctuations of the mind” as described in previous sutras)
Please join me today (Wednesday, September 14th) at 4:30 PM or 7:15 PM for a yoga practice on Zoom, where we will consider the process of forming (and changing) habits. Use the link from the“Class Schedules”calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You will need to register for the 7:15 PM class if you have not already done so. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “09042021 Experiencing the Mind”]
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, playlists, 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 to Common Ground are tax deductible; class purchases and donations directly to me are not necessarily deductible.)
For Those Who Missed It: A version of the following was originally posted in 2020. Links and class details have been added or updated.
“If something is boring after 2 minutes, try it for 4. If still boring, then 8. Then 16. Then 38. Eventually one discovers that it is not boring at all.”
It’s funny to think of it that way, but it is also true – not only of a Zen practice, but of all meditation practices. When we sit, or even when we practice a moving meditation, the mind focuses on something again and again and again; meaning, it keeps coming back to the object of focus. Similar to japa-ajapa, we repeat and repeat, repeat and remember, repeat and understand – in other words, we gain insight. Not coincidentally, the Sanskrit word dyana (“thought, meditation”), which is the source word for zen, comes from the Greek root meaning “to see, look.” So, when we look at something again, and again, and again – even looking, as Paulo Coehlo suggested, from different perspectives – we see things “in a special way” (which is just another way to say “insight”). Our understanding of the moment (and movement) is a matter of perspective.
“The truth knocks on the door and you say, “Go away, I’m looking for the truth,” and so it goes away. Puzzling.”
– quoted from Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry into Values by Robert Pirsig
It’s like a road trip. The vehicle is moving but we are still inside the vehicle; the scenery is still, but appears to be moving. Everything merges and converges while we are still. Do you see where we’re going?
It’s OK if you don’t. This is kind of like that old joke where someone says, “I’m not lost. I know exactly where we are. We’re in the car.” Now, consider what happens if we could get out of the box or cage we’re in and become part of the scenery. Not walking necessarily, but riding. So that the scenery is simultaneously still and moving… but so are we. And, just like with a moving meditation, there is some part of us that always stays still.
“Get yourself out of whatever cage you find yourself.”
– John Cage
“In a car you’re always in a compartment, and because you’re used to it you don’t realize that through that car window everything you see is just more TV. You’re a passive observer and it is all moving by you boringly in a frame.
On a cycle the frame is gone. You’re completely in contact with it all. You’re in the scene, not just watching it anymore, and the sense of presence is overwhelming.”
– quoted from Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry into Values by Robert Pirsig
Born today in 1928, in Minneapolis, Minnesota, Robert Pirsig was a writer and philosopher whose way above average IQ was identified at an early age. While he ultimately served in the United States Army and became a professor of creative writing, he is most well-known as the author of a fictionalized autobiography that centers around a road trip Pirsig took with his son Chris. The trip took them from Minneapolis to San Francisco. The book takes the reader along for the ride and also on a philosophical road trip, moving readers through a history of philosophy and an exploration of “quality” (an object of contemplation). While Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry into Values received over one hundred rejection letters and no one expected it to have much of a shelf life, the book initially sold at least 5 million copies worldwide and has consistently appeared on best seller lists.
Pirsig served as vice-President of the Minnesota Zen Mediation Center and spent two additional years on its board of directors. But while he was familiar with motorcycles and Zen Buddhism (as well as electroshock therapy, which is also chronicled in the book), Robert Pirsig said that his seminal book shouldn’t be considered “factual” about either. The same can be said about his follow-up book, Lila: An Inquiry into Morals, which recounts a sailboat trip down the Hudson River. Lila picks up where the philosophical road trip left off and explores “quality” as Static or Dynamic and divides everything in the universe into four “static values” (inorganic, biological, social, and intellectual). His exploration about morals is also an exploration of perspective, and how perspectives change over time. Even though biographies indicate that a 1974 Guggenheim Fellowship “allowed” him to write the second book and the philosophical discourse into metaphysics is continuous, there is a seventeen-year gap between the books.
In the 17 years between his books, Pirsig divorced his first wife, married his second wife, lost his oldest son (who had been featured in the first book), and had a daughter. His son Christopher was killed in a mugging outside the San Francisco Zen Meditation Center. Pirsig would eventually explain that one of the reasons he and his second wife had their daughter Nell was because they believed she was a continuation of Chris’s “life pattern.” In other words, Nell was part of the same trip (metaphysically speaking, of course.)
“You look at where you’re going and where you are and it never makes sense, but then you look back at where you’ve been and a pattern seems to emerge. And if you project forward from that pattern, then sometimes you can come up with something.”
– quoted from Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry into Values by Robert Pirsig
Please join me today (Tuesday, September 6th) at 12:00 PM or 7:15 PM for a yoga practice on Zoom. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules”calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment belowor (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Tuesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “09062020 The Art of Moving Meditation”]
“The thing to understand is that if you are going to reform society you don’t start with cops. And if you are going to reform intellect you don’t start with psychiatrists. If you don’t like our present social system or intellectual system the best thing you can do with either cops or psychiatrists is stay out of their way. You leave them till last.”
– quoted from Lila: An Inquiry into Morals by Robert Pirsig
“The place to improve the world is first in one’s own heart and head and hands, and then work outward from there.”
– quoted from Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry into Values by Robert Pirsig
A Joyful Practice 