May your mind-body-spirit be well, be great, and be in harmony with your thoughts, words, and deeds.
This can be considered a “missing” and “long lost” post for Monday, January 8th (with one tiny reference to January 9th).Other than the Wednesday (7:15 PM, CST) practice, there are no Zoom practices until Saturday, January 13th.You can request an audio recording of previous practices via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
“He shall from time to time give to the Congress Information of the State of the Union, and recommend to their Consideration such Measures as he shall judge necessary and expedient…”
— quoted from “Article. II. Section. 3.” of the The Constitution of the United States
Any time we get on the mat (or the cushion) we scan our mind-body-spirit and get a sense of how things are (or are not) working and working together. In other words, we address the state of our “union.” I put that last part in quotes, because the Sanskrit word yoga translates into English as “union” — and, so, we get on the mat and spend a little time delivering our own personal State of the Union address (to ourselves).margin-top:
George Washington delivered the first State of the Union address to the joint sessions of Congress in New York City, the proposed capital of the fledgling United States of America, on January 8, 1790. His interpretation of “from time to time” was annually and other presidents followed suit. Up until Franklin Delano Roosevelt used the phrase “State of the Union,” in his 1934 address, it was called “the President’s Annual Message to Congress.” People often think presidents are required to deliver an oral speech, however, the State of the Union does not have to be spoken. In fact, Thomas Jefferson discontinued speeches in 1801, and the tradition of a U. S. president speaking in front of Congress was not re-established until Woodrow Wilson’s speech in 1913.
Some presidents, like Jimmy Carter, delivered spoken and written addresses during their time in office. For instance, former President Carter’s last State of the Union address (in 1981) was the last written address, so far. Presidents have delivered written address for various reasons. Sometimes illness or political conflicts resulted in a written speech. At other times, there was a desire to provide clarification and nuance that they may have felt would be missed if a speech was delivered. In fact, the lengthiness of the address resulted in some being written — and some being written and partially delivered or summarized. President Richard Nixon (who celebrated his birthday on January 9th) gave Congress six (6) written State of the Union address in 1973, with each message being preceded by a radio address.
Former President Nixon was not, however, the first president to utilize media and technology in order to share the State of the Union with the entire Union. Nor was he the only president to submit a written address to Congress and broadcast a summary for the populace. Warren G. Harding was the first U. S. president to speak on the radio, in 1922, but he unexpectedly died in office, in 1923. Later that year, Calvin Coolidge became the first president to deliver a State of the Union on the radio and his first words were addressed the untimely death of his predecessor.
“Since the close of the last Congress the Nation has lost President Harding. The world knew his kindness and his humanity, his greatness and his character. He has left his mark upon history. He has made justice more certain and peace more secure. The surpassing tribute paid to his memory as he was borne across the continent to rest at last at home revealed the place lie held in the hearts of the American people. But this is not the occasion for extended reference to the man or his work. In this presence, among these who knew and loved him, that is unnecessary. But we who were associated with him could not resume together the functions of our office without pausing for a moment, and in his memory reconsecrating ourselves to the service of our country. He is gone. We remain. It is our duty, under the inspiration of his example, to take up the burdens which he was permitted to lay down, and to develop and support the wise principles of government which he represented.”
— quoted from the “First Annual Message,” delivered December 06, 1923 by President Calvin Coolidge
Just as radio changed the reach and impact of the State of the Union address, so too have television, the internet, and social media. Former President Harry S. Truman delivered the first televised State of the Union, in 1947, and former President Lyndon B. Johnson set the precedent of delivering a televised speech during primetime (while using a teleprompter). In 1997, the first State of the Union on the internet was delivered by former President Bill Clinton — who also has the unfortunate distinction of being the first to deliver a State of the Union during an impeachment trial.
Of course, former President Clinton was not the first or the last president to deliver a State of the Union address during a time great tragedy and/or national embarrassment. Former President Ronald Reagan postponed his 1986 address because of the Challenger disaster and, in 2019, the then-sitting president was “disinvited” by the then Speaker of the House. Such events change our perspective of current events and, therefore, place the (actual) state of the Union in a certain context. In other words, what we are going through individually and collectively allows — and/or causes — us to see things in a certain way.
“My expectations were reduced to zero at twenty-one. Everything since then has been a bonus.
Although I cannot move and I have to speak through a computer, in my mind I am free.”
— Dr. Stephen Hawking (CH CBE FRS FRSA)
When we practice on January 8th, I sometimes reference Stephen William Hawking, the theoretical physicist, cosmologist, author, and director of research, who was born January 8, 1942, in Oxford, England. When he was diagnosed with a motor neuron disease in his early 20’s, he was forced to take a daily accounting of his mind, body, and spirit — as well as how they were (or were not) working… let alone working together. For similar reasons, the playlist includes music by Elvis Aaron Presley, who was born January 8, 1935, in Tupelo, Mississippi, and by David Bowie, who was born January 8, 1947, in London, England. I include the “King of Rock and Roll” and “Ziggy Stardust,” because they produced great music AND, also, because their music gives us a musical (and visual) picture of the state of society (in America and in the world) at various points in history. Additionally, moving to their music — mindfully and “in a special way” — can awaken our awareness of how our different parts are (or are not) working… let alone working together.
“If I could be you, if you could be me For just one hour If we could find a way To get inside each other’s mind, uh huh
If you could see you through my eyes Instead of your ego I believe you’d be, I believe you’d be Surprised to see That you’ve been blind, uh huh”
— quoted from the song “Walk A Mile In My Shoes” by Elvis Presley (written by Joe South)
“I’ve got scars that can’t be seen I’ve got drama, can’t be stolen Everybody knows me now”
— quoted from the song “Lazarus” by David Bowie
As established by Article II, Section 3 of the U. S. Constitution, the State of the Union address is a re-cap of and reflection on the recent past and a look forward with hope, expectation, and a plan. Since it generally happens as early as January 3rd and as late as February 12th
, it is pretty much the same thing individuals do at the beginning of the year — and, also, what we have the opportunity to do every time we step on the mat: look at what’s worked and what hasn’t worked in the past and propose on a way to move forward.
This year, my personal State of the Union finds me back in Minnesota simultaneously looking forward and back, reflecting on what worked (or didn’t work) over the last 15+ years, the last almost 4 years, and the last week. Like the presidents of yesteryear, I am not going to spend a bunch of time recounting the negative stuff, I am just going to use it to provide a little context for the good stuff.
“A tranquil and one-pointed mind is purposefully creative. With such a mind you get more done in less time, and what is more, because it is done with clarity and purpose, the work you undertake is not a burden and does not become a source of misery.
A confused mind is not fit to follow any path. It is not even in a position to tell the body and senses what is good for them and what is not. That is why we go on complying with the urges of the body and senses, even when these urges serve no useful purpose. Such a mind has no way of deciding what it should unite with or what it should separate from; this confusion is what causes a person to live a purposeless, meaningless life.”
— quoted from “Yoga: Union with What?” (a Q&A response) by Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, PhD
When my “hostess with the most-est” first suggested the idea of me returning to Minnesota for a couple of weeks, she had said that she had (and I quote), That could be considered “no expectations” and, also, could be a way to describe the practice of non-attachment in the modern world: speak a plan into exist, do some work to make it happen, and be open to the way it unfolds.
I, however, had a bit of an agenda and some expectations — if only because I normally offer some special practices on New Year’s Day and on the First Friday Night of each month. I also had some hopes and desires about reconnecting — uniting, if you will — with some people I had seen in awhile. Then, too, I had the awareness that it had been a long time since most of us had practiced together (let alone together-together) and that some things about each and everyone of us are different. My desires, hopes, agendas, expectations, and even fears could all be considered forms of attachment and afflicted/dysfunctional thinking. In other words, they could all lead to suffering… and, on a certain level they did.
I had moments of frustration and disappointment. I know others also had similar moments (for different reasons). However, when everything is said and done, I am overwhelmed by gratitude. After almost four years of practicing together-while-apart, I am so very grateful that so many people were able to join in “Yoga Week” (as some of you were calling the first week of January 2024). I appreciated the presence of everyone who physically practiced in our four (4) studios — as well as to those who Zoomed in from as far away as Portland and the Middle East and those who did their best and could only make it in spirit.
I am forever grateful to my hostess for planting the seed, nourishing that seed and, doing so much to make it happen (including sharing her family and her practice). Similarly, I am grateful for the people who suggested possible spaces and the four lovely lovelies who connected me and helped me get situated in our “pop up” studios. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!
Thank you to the staff members at Center for the Performing Arts, Gabrielle and the teachers at 612 Jungle, and the teachers and staff at Roosevelt High School and North Community High School. Thank you for those who offered technical support (even before I arrived) and thank you to everyone who offered me a ride (even if I didn’t take it), fed me, offered to feed me, and/or made a donation (so I can feed myself when I get back to Texas)! Thank you, in advance, for those who will make it to the Open House on Thursday and thank you to JK who is opening her heart, home, and hearth to us exactly four years (to the date) from the last time we gathered together.
Looking forward, I hope this week has reignited you and your practice. I hope it has given you some insight into what comes next for you. I hope it has allowed you to let go of some things that no longer serve you, so that you can move it the new year with a little more unencumbered purpose and determination. I hope that purpose and determination inspires you to plan… something. I hope you are safe and protected, peaceful and happy, healthy and strong, and that you have ease and well being from this day forward.
As for me: I am open to coming back… for a visit. Maybe it will be another New Year Yoga Week; maybe it will be a series of workshops and/or a retreat. Maybe it will be in another place all together, but we will be back — together — again.
“In contrast, a peaceful, one-pointed mind has a natural ability to see itself, its role, and its place in relation to both body and soul. This ability allows the mind to command the body to discharge its duty to hear and heed the voice of the soul. The practices that help us acquire a one-pointed mind are called yoga. Reaching that state is the goal of yoga.”
— quoted from “Yoga: Union with What?” (a Q&A response) by Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, PhD
The 2022 playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for 01082022 State of the “Union”]
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.)
It’s been a while; but, do you remember all the gear I put on to deal with winter in Minnesota? Well…
It’s Time to Gear Up for a New Year!
For a limited time only, I will be back in the Twin Cities. In-person practices (also available on Zoom) will be held at various locations Monday, January 1st until Sunday, January 7th — with an additional practice held only on Zoom on Wednesday, January 10th. Spaces are limited for the in-person practices!
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.)
May you be safe and protected — and may you enjoy your journey.
“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
The following excerpt is from the 2022 version of a 2020 post:
“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.”
Please join me for a “spirited” virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Wednesday, September 6th) at 4:30 PM or 7:15 PM. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “09062020 The Art of Moving Meditation”]
“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
If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can dial 988 (in the US) or call 1-800-273-TALK (8255)for the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. You can also call this TALK line if you are struggling with addiction or involved in an abusive relationship. The Lifeline network is free, confidential, and available to all 24/7. YOU CAN TALK ABOUT ANYTHING.
White Flag is a new app, which I have not yet researched, but which may be helpful if you need (non-professional) support.
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.)
### Just a little more “purposeless play” as “a way of waking up to the very life we’re living.” ~ JC ###
“Happy Riḍván!” to those celebrating “the Most Great Festival.” Many blessings to anyone Counting the Omer or celebrating/observing Eastertide / the Octave of Easter!
This is a “missing” post for Saturday, April 22nd. It includes some recycled quotes and re-purposed information from earlier posts. Some embedded links will take you outside of the blog. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
“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.”
– quoted from Silent Spring by Rachel Carson (published 1962)
So, this week we considered the power found in waiting, waiting in community and also the power of water and light – which is akin to fire – (plus there were some references to wind). But what about Earth… and Space? And what does any of this have to do with grace, particularly shastra kripa (or, at least, one of the definitions of shastra kripa)? To get to all that we have to get grounded, dig deep, and take a little detour through another celebration related to waiting and through a yogathon.
Notice, however, that all of the references below are centered and grounded in community.
“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
In addition to being the beginning of the 10th annual Kiss My Asana yogathon, today was Earth Day. While the roots of Earth Day can be found in the 1962 publication of Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring, an actual day dedicated to Earth and peace was initially proposed by John McConnell during a 1969 conferenced hosted by the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO). The very first Earth Day, as he proposed it, was held in San Francisco on March 21, 1970, to coincide with the first day of spring in the northern hemisphere. Gaylord Nelson, a United States Senator from Wisconsin, proposed a nationwide environmental teach-in and hired a young activist named Denis Hayes to organize the first national Earth Day, which was held on April 22, 1970. More than 20 million people, including then-President Richard Nixon and First Lady Pat Nixon, participated in the events on April 22, 1970, making that day one of the largest protests in the United States. (The 1970 Earth Day teach-in was the largest recorded protest until the 2020 protest after the murder of George Floyd.)
“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.’”
– quoted from Rachel Carson’s original submission to “Words to Live By” for This Week Magazine (1951)
“A determination to be outward looking in the process of community building had already become an established aspect of culture in many, many places; it has now blossomed, in a rising number of communities, into a sense of real responsibility for the spiritual and material progress of larger and larger groups within society, well beyond the membership of the Bahá’í community itself. The efforts of the friends to build communities, to engage in social action, and to contribute to the prevalent discourses of society have cohered into one global enterprise, bound together by a common framework for action, focused on helping humanity to establish its affairs on a foundation of spiritual principles.”
– quoted from the Riḍván 2022 message from the Universal House of Justice “To the Bahá’is of the World”
Thursday night marked the beginning of the twelve-day festival of Ridván, “the Most Great Festival” in the Baháʼí Faith. As I mentioned last month, the Baháʼí Faith is a monotheistic faith that believes in the oneness of God and religion, as well as the oneness and nobility of humanity. The community believes that, historically, there has been a “progressive revelation of religious truth” which has been shared with the world through the voices of the prophets or Divine Messengers, known as “Manifestations of God” (which include “Braham, Krishna, Zoroaster, Moses, Buddha, Jesus Christ, Muhammad, and, in more recent times, the Báb and Bahá’u’lláh”). People within the faith are taught to honor the value of different religious and philosophical traditions as well as the value of education, especially in science (which is viewed by some faiths as being contrary to religion).
The Bahá’í calendar begins around the Vernal (Spring) Equinox in the Northern Hemisphere and has 19 months with 19 days – each named for one of the 19 names/manifestations/attributes of God. For example, “Splendor” and “Glory” are the English translations for Bahá and Jalál, the first two months (and days) of this solar calendar. There are also 4 or 5 intercalary days that occur just before the final month and which are considered “transcendent” in nature. The calendar is partially tied to the Gregorian calendar, in that days on each calendar always correspond with each other; however, the Bahá’í calendar is very much focused around its own historical liturgy. Hence, why 2023 is the year 180 BE (Bahá’í Era).
The twelve-day festival of Ridván, one of the holiest times within the Bahá’í community, is celebrated during the second month and begins exactly one Gregorian-month after the new year. This “Most Great Festival” in the Baháʼí Faith honors the time that the founder of the Bahá’i Faith, Bahá’u’lláh waited in the original garden of Ridván prior to being exiled to Constantinople. The Arabic word ridván means “paradise” and I indicated “the original garden,” because in addition to the garden outside of Baghdad, where the great spiritual leader (considered a manifestation of the Divine) prepared for his exile, there is a second garden with the same name in Israel, which Bahá’u’lláh visited after years of exile.
The festival is a time of a sacred time of prayer, reflection, and celebration. This year’s celebrations began two hours before sunset on Thursday – with the specific timing meant to commemorate the actual time, in 1863, when Bahá’u’lláh entered the Najíbíyyih Garden with his three sons and his secretary and began to receive the visitors who wanted to wish him well before his departure. It was during this time, in the space he called “paradise,” that Bahá’u’lláh declared himself as the most recent manifestation of God; that all religious wars were repealed; that there would not be another manifestation of the God for another 1,000 years; and that the names of God (or attributes of the divine) are manifested in all things. To honor the fact that he made these announcements, the Universal House of Justice issues an annual Ridván message. They also hold elections held during this time. The first day (yesterday), the ninth day (next Saturday), and the twelfth day are considered the most holy of days. The ninth day is auspicious because it is the day the rest of Bahá’u’lláh’s family joined him in the garden and it is also the beginning of the third month, Jamál (“Beauty”).
“Besides my involvement with the Investor’s Circle, I temporarily put aside my plan for an institute and returned to the basics – an almost exclusive focus on my yoga practice. After a couple of years, I decided that it was time to share my experience with yoga and paralysis. If nothing else, I could help others who lived with disability. I started teaching an adapted yoga class at the Courage Center, a leading rehabilitation facility in a suburb of Minneapolis.
My idea was that by teaching this class, I could give something back – an obvious means to make my experience useful. What I found was much more. I thought I was teaching these students, when, in fact, they were teaching me. Neurological deficit is a frontier of mind-body integration. Working with these students has taught me that the principles of yoga are nondiscriminating – they can travel though any body.”
– quoted from “16, Falling Gracefully” in “Part Three: Yoga, Bodies, and Baby Boys” of Waking: A Memoir of Trauma and Transcendence by Matthew Sanford
As I have mentioned before, my first exposure to the physical practice of yoga was also my first exposure to Yoga Philosophy and to the fact that anyone and everyone can practice yoga. Sometimes we stumble upon the practice that works for us. However, sometimes it takes an extra effort to find the practice (and the teacher) that works for our particular mind-bod-spirit. In fact, it wasn’t until I took my first yoga teacher training that I really realized how many people weren’t practicing, because they didn’t know they could practice. Even worse, some people had been told that they couldn’t practice – which is heartbreaking.
Still, I believed (and continue to believe) in the transformative, healing, and joyful experience of yoga. I also still believe there is a practice for every mind/body/spirit – every veteran, every person with disability, every survivor of sexual assault and other trauma, every elderly person, every person living with chronic pain, every person with a terminal illness, and every caregiver. I am joyfully participating in the Kiss My Asana yogathon for the 10th year in a row, because Mind Body Solutions is helping people find their practice!
The Kiss My Asana yogathon is an annual event that raises awareness and resources for Mind Body Solutions and their life-affirming work to help people living with disabilities. Best known for their Adaptive Yoga Program, which provides adapted yoga opportunities for people around the globe, MBS currently provides live, online resources to people living with disabilities, worldwide. In addition to 11 live online yoga classes a week, MBS has also created a comprehensive library of recorded adaptive yoga classes for students, instructional videos for adaptive yoga teachers, and insightful interviews between the founding teacher, Matthew Sanford, and adaptive students. In the past, MBS has also offered training and workshops for yoga teachers, healthcare professionals, and caregivers (so they can share this work in their communities, too).
All of this helps people with disabilities live more fully, where they are and how they are. Ultimately, however, Mind Body Solutions is all about everyone having better relationships with their mind-body and spreading the message that a greater connection between mind and body can help us all live with improved comfort and ease. So, we can all benefit from the practice, because we all experience trauma, loss, and disability in some way shape or form.
The yogathon started as a month-long endeavor, but switched to a 7-day yogathon in 2020. This week (April 22nd – 28th) I’m planning to practice with purpose. I’m going to “Do Yoga. Share Yoga. Help Others.” – and you can join me! The practices I lead will be full of little bits of teaching/practice I’ve picked up from Matthew Sanford and other teachers and students at Mind Body Solutions. Plus, I’ll be posting on the community page on my YouTube channel.
If you’re interested in my previous KMA offerings, check out the following (some links only take you to the beginning of a series):
Saturday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “0422020 Earth Day”]
What’s this?
Dandasana (“Staff Pose”)
Have you subscribed to my YouTube page? It’s mostly playlists, plus a few mini-practices and videos from previous yogathons. Starting later tonight, I’m also going to be posting on my community page as part of my 2023 Kiss My Asana offering. So, check it out if you want to know more about the pose pictured above (and why we’re doing it).
Peace and blessings to all, and especially to those observing Lent, Great Lent, and the Baháʼí 19-Day Fast during this “Season for Non-violence” and all other seasons! Happy New Year, to those who are celebrating!
For Those Who Missed It: This is an abridged (and then revised and expanded) version of a 2022 post that primarily focused on “Winning the Lottery.” Some elements of this post also overlap with the 2023 Purim post. Some embedded links connect to websites outside of my blog.
“The problem with this answering line is that the world of the blues that seems to be evoked by the idiom and form of this song is generally not a world in which one’s baby goes off to a ‘foreign land.’ African American blues singers in the tradition that Dylan is building on here may sing about their baby going off to Chicago, or New Orleans, or Natchez. But not on a trip abroad: that’s an experience that, at this particular moment, is still mostly the province of a modern, educated, Caucasian upper middle class…. Dylan goes on to claim in good rural language that he’ll ‘get lucky’ or ‘die tryin’ ’ as he rambles to reach his beloved.”
– quoted from “II. Ramblin’ Boy: ‘Protest’ and the Art of Adaptation” in Bob Dylan’s Poetics: How the Songs Work by Timothy Hampton
I recently heard a young, up-and-coming artist compare achieving a huge milestone to winning the lottery. For sure, I can see that. Especially when you consider how many people commented on the fact that this artist hit this much deserved milestone before his much lauded collaborator. (Don’t misunderstand me, I’m a big fan of both artists, but there’s something more than talent at play here.) I think having a hit song is also like that. Because while there is a lot of hard work that goes into creating a hit song, there’s also a lot of luck. It’s like that old adage: you can’t win if you don’t play. Of course, most people who play, don’t win – at least not really big – and it’s the same thing with being a big star in music.
The existence of streaming services and social media means that a lot of hustle and marketing on the part of the artist (and their community) can get an artist noticed today, in a way they couldn’t get noticed 20-plus years ago. That attention can really push a song up the charts. However, we’re still in a time time when songs are hits (in part) because they are played on the radio. And for all that hustle, many songs are played on the radio because of the way the musician looks. This is true across genres. This is even more so when it comes to music in and from certain countries and cultures. Being talented and having the “right” size, complexion, ethnicity, and (on a certain level) gender and sexuality, is like hitting the Powerball®.
“The Multi-State Lottery Association encourages all lottery players to be responsible in their amount of play.
For some people gambling can become a problem. If you or someone you know has a gambling problem, there are a number of helpful resources listed below.
National Council on Problem Gambling 24 Hour Confidential National Helpline Call: 1-800-522-4700 Chat: ncpgambling.org/chat Text: 1-800-522-4700
– quoted from the “Play Responsibly” tab on the Powerball® website
While I’ve been known to play bingo in a church basement (for charity and the chance to win a homemade quilt), I’m not really one to play the lottery. My limited understanding is that there’s a lot of different ways you can win with a Powerball®. However, just like with music and other things that could make you wealthy beyond your dreams, you have to be responsible and avoid the scams. You have to balance the temptation and your desire with reality. The reality, again, being that if you don’t play, you don’t win; but most people don’t win… big.
If you’re talented and have the aforementioned equivalent of the Powerball®, you can do things other people can’t do. You can write songs that make people re-think the world. You can sing songs other people not only wouldn’t think to sing, but might be afraid to sing. You can inspire people to sing your songs… even when they don’t always understand you. To me, Bob Dylan and his eponymous first album are a great example of a musical Powerball®.
“I walked down there and ended up
In one of them coffee-houses on the block
I get on the stage to sing and play
Man there said, ‘Come back some other day
You sound like a hillbilly
We want folksingers here’”
– quoted from the song “Talkin’ New York” by Bob Dylan
Bob Dylan’s debut studio album, Bob Dylan, was released today (March 19th) in 1962. I didn’t use it for the anniversary this last year – because I thought it would distract from [the] sūtra study – but, normally I use one of the playlists that I also use on Bob Dylan’s birthday (hint, hint). It’s a playlist that combines music from the original album – which only included two original Bob Dylan songs – with Bob Dylan songs covered and/or made famous by others. It’s a good way, I think, to highlight the fact that Dylan is as inspired as he is inspirational.
Bob Dylan, the album, was recorded on November 20th and 22nd of 1961. In addition to the two original Dylan songs (“Talkin’ New York” and “Song to Woody”), there were eleven covers or traditional folk songs (including Negro spirituals). While Bob Dylan did arrange some of the folk songs, there’s one arrangement that he famously, uhmm… “borrowed” (without permission) from folk singer Dave Van Ronk. Exactly a month after recording the album, Bob Dylan had an informal recording session in a Minneapolis, Minnesota hotel room with Bonnie Beecher and Tony Glover. Those bootleg recordings may or may not have been distributed out of someone’s trunk; but, they were the equivalent of modern-day artists streaming their music. They got people excited about Bob Dylan as a musician and may be considered a better glimpse (than the studio album) of what was to come from the artist.
The bootleg recordings did not, however, drum up enough attention to really sell Bob Dylan. The album has never been super popular (chart wise) in the US or the UK. Neither did it, initially, receive a lot of critical recognition or attention. Part of the lack of interest, at the time it was released, may have been because it sounded nothing like what was popular at the time. According to a Rolling Stone article by Andy Greene, “[The album came out at] the height of ‘The Twist’ dance craze, and 11 songs on the Billboard Hot 100 chart had the word ‘twist’ in the title, including “Dear Lady Twist” by Gary U.S. Bonds, “Twistin’ The Night Away’ by Sam Cooke, “Hey, Let’s Twist” by Joey Dee and the Starlighters, “Twistin’ Postman” by the Marvelettes and “Alvin Twist” by the Chipmunks.”
In addition to “Peppermint Twist,” also by Joey Dee and the Starlighters, which spent three weeks at number one on the Billboard Hot 100 chart, the airwaves at the time were filled with doowop artists like Gene Chandler; crooners like Ray Charles and Neil Sedaka; women like Connie Francis, Shelley Fabares, and Little Eva; Motown girl bands like The Shirelles; and boy bands like the Beach Boys and The Tokens (whose number one song at the beginning of 1962, “The Lion Sleeps Tonight,” is it’s own “lottery” cautionary tale). Of course, there was folk music; however, as Andy Greene pointed out, “To most of America, the Kingston Trio were the embodiment of folk music…. but [Dylan] sounded nothing like the Kingston Trio.”Then there was Elvis Presley… and some 1962 reviewers did compare Dylan – as well as his voice and his style – to Elvis Presley.
Which is weird to me.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m a Bob Dylan fan (on a lot of different levels). I even dig that first album. However, the comparison to Elvis is curious, when you really think about it. At the time, maybe they were both just seen as young, eager singers changing the “face” of music – and I get that. They were also young, white singers making popular (city) music out of traditions associated with Black, poor, and/or rural America – and I get that comparison, too. However, it’s hard for me to not view them through the lens of history.
Elvis was a singer, a performer, an actor, and a U. S. veteran; but, he was never recognized as a songwriter. Most say that he didn’t even pen the songs on which he is credited as a co-writer. Also, he didn’t have a ton of protest songs associated with the anti-war and Civil Rights movements. Finally, Elvis never won, as Bob Dylan did in 2016, a Nobel Prize in Literature. In fact, (to me) the only thing Bob Dylan and Elvis Presley had in common in 1962, especially when compared to other also talented musicians at the time, was that elusive Powerball® of talent, drive, and other people’s perceptions.
“How does it feel, how does it feel? To be without a home Like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone”
– quoted from the song “Like a Rolling Stone” by Bob Dylan
Please join me for a 65-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Sunday, March 19th) at 2:30 PM. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Sunday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “05242022 ‘Bob’s Poems”]
“Here comes the story of the Hurricane
The man the authorities came to blame
For somethin’ that he never done
Put in a prison cell, but one time he coulda been
The champion of the world”
– quoted from the song “Hurricane” by Bob Dylan and Jacques Levy
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. Ifyou 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.)
Peace and blessings to all, and especially to those observing Lent, Great Lent, and the Baháʼí 19-Day Fast during this “Season for Non-violence” and all other seasons!
“You could call someone where it’s still early.
Go out and look at the stars shining in the past
Or open the Joachim Jeremias to the densely printed page, it’s corner folded for some reason not yet remembered
before you set the clock.
You have to set the clock— for a moment that doesn’t exist yet”
– quoted from the poem “Home Remedy” in God’s Silence by Franz Wright
Do you remember this week, three years ago? Do you remember today?
I know, I know, some parts of the last three years are a blur; but, three years ago today, I was putting together a full-length practice video, to post on YouTube. It was a Wednesday, everything was shutting down, and I was posting the video so people could keep up their practice. I had no real plans to do anything else… other than post on the blog for two weeks and maybe post a couple of more videos. Goodness. Do you remember when…?
It’s a little surreal to realize that – not counting my videos on the Carry prenatal yoga and meditation app – my first full-length (physical) practice video, with all it’s flaws, is still my only full-length (physical) practice video. What is super surreal is to think about the hundreds of full-length audio recordings I’ve made in the meantime and, also, to realize that 2019 was the last time I taught a live class on the anniversary of the birth of Franz Wright.
“I am here to learn to bear the beams of love, what else
Bells through the leaves, I am here to endure the
bells tolling underground”
– quoted from the poem “Introduction” in God’s Silence by Franz Wright
Born in Vienna, today in 1953, Franz Wright spent portions of his childhood in Washington (state), California, and the Midwestern United States (in particular, Minnesota). In addition to sharing similar poetic themes, he and his father, James Wright, are the only parent and child to win a Pulitzer Prize in the same category. The elder Wright suffered from depression, bipolar disorders, and alcoholism and focused on the emotional suffering he saw around him, especially that suffering experienced by the disenfranchised in America. The younger Wright wrote about isolation, loneliness, longing, insomnia, and death intersecting with kindness, love, faith, hope, and peace. Three years ago today, I thought it oddly and serendipitously appropriate that my first virtual offering focused on Franz Wright’s work.
Three years later, I find his words still ring true and, oddly, still fit our current circumstances.
Versions of the following were original posted on March18thand20thof 2020. You can click on the dates (to the left) to view the original posts. Some links (below) will take you away from my blog.
Chicago Tribune critic Julia Keller once described one of Franz Wright’s collections as being “ultimately about joy and grace and the possibility of redemption, about coming out whole on the other side of emotional catastrophe,” while Denis Johnson supposedly compared his poems to “tiny jewels shaped by blunt, ruined fingers – miraculous gifts.” I know, that’s a lot to take in (and you might need to read that Va. Woolf-like sentence again). The thing is; I think we are (still) in the middle of a Franz Wright poem. So, brace yourself.
I first came across Franz Wright’s poem “Solution” in a 2015 blog post written by Alison McGhee, a New York Times bestselling author and Pulitzer Prize-nominee, who writes and teaches up the street from where I was in March of 2020. In the post (which I strongly recommend), Professor McGhee wrote about an encounter she had with someone best described as her exterior opposite. Yet the interior movements of the heart, all of our hearts, are ultimately the same – something both Alison McGhee’s short post and Franz Wright’s poem illustrate bluntly, beautifully, and miraculously.
Both the post and the poem contain reminders we could all use right now.
“What is the meaning of kindness? Speak and listen to others, from now on, as if they had recently died. At the core the seen and unseen worlds are one.”
– “Solution” by Franz Wright
Franz Wright’s poems are full of natural spirituality and that oftentimes “heartbreaking human conflict between religion and spirit.” The final line of the poem “Solution” reminds me of 2 Corinthians 4:18 where Saint Paul and Saint Timothy wrote, “So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” NOTE: The New Living Translation translates this passage as “So we don’t look at the troubles we can see now; rather, we fix our gaze on things that cannot be seen. For the things we see now will soon be gone, but the things we cannot see will last forever.” In 2020, I suggested focusing on what is unseen (during the practice). Today, I suggest focusing on the unseen as grace (how ever that resonates for you).
“II
The long silences need to be loved, perhaps more than the words which arrive to describe them in time.”
– quoted from the poem “Home Remedy” in God’s Silence by Franz Wright
Franz Wright won two National Endowment for the Arts grants (1985 and 1992), a Guggenheim Fellowship (1989), a Whiting Award (1991), the PEN/Voelcker Award for Poetry, (1996), and the aforementioned Pulitzer Prize for Poetry. His first collection after winning the 2004 Pulitzer Prize was entitled God’s Silence. I haven’t read all of it (yet), but I am still fascinated by the idea of 144 pages worth of Franz Wright poetry curated around the idea of “God’s Silence.” Notice, that it’s 144 pages – not 144 poems. (Poets everywhere are now doing the math.) This is the kind of the thing that gets me oddly excited, because there is so much I want to know!
I want to know if he was referring to silence that is the response to a prayer or a request (or even a curse); the silence that precedes an answer; the silence that follows the answer (when the questioner is dumbfounded or in awe of the response); the silence when one is pondering the best way to phrase something and therefore measuring their words; the silence of shock (can we shock God?); the silence of disappointment; the silence of wonder; the silence when no one is around; the silence of sleeping children; the silence between one breath and the next; the silence of meditation; the silence of peace; the silence honoring the dead; the silence just before a newborn declares itself alive; or….The list goes on.
He could have been talking about all of the above. Or none of the above. There are so many possibilities – and they are all full of grace (whatever that means to you in this moment)!
“I
Armed Conflict
Snowy light fills the room pronouncing itself
softly. The telephone ringing
in the deserted city— ”
– the poem “Armed Conflict” quoted from God’s Silence by Franz Wright
The first section of God’s Silence is entitled “East Boston, 1996” and the first poem in that section, “Armed Conflict,” sets the stage for the other poems, including “Solitary Play: Minnesota, 1961” – which is a dark and twisted coming of age poem. The latter feels even darker and more twisted given so many current events related to children and our conflicts about the 2nd Amendment. And that’s the thing, again, about Franz Wright’s poetry: We don’t have to go through the things he went through to feel, deep inside of our own hearts, the gut-wrenching things he felt.
We don’t have to be the son of James Wright to understand what it is like to stand in the shadow and the light of a parent who struggled every day with their own darkness and light. Neither do we have to be abandoned by said parent to see the poignant irony of living (and dying) in much the same ways. Nor do we have to spend our finally days, dealing with terminal lung cancer and writing what are essentially love poems to our spouse*, to understand why a collection of memories is named Kindertotenwald (essentially, a forest of ones who will never age). We all get it, can get it; especially, if we read (or listen to) Franz Wright’s poetry.
Maybe, possibly, we can also get the grace that was his kindness, love, faith, hope, and peace.
“After all, it was only a blizzard in Minneapolis in 1959. How are you supposed to describe something like me? And when you think about it, why should you try, why should you even care?”
– quoted from the prose poem “Wintersleep” in Kindertotenwald by Franz Wright
I not only care about poetry that gets you through hard times, I love it. In part, because it makes you realize that someone has been through harder – or, as hard of a time as you. Additionally, I think one of the reasons I was/am so fascinated with the idea of God’s Silence is that part of my practice involves silence, moving into silence and stillness. The kind of silence and stillness that can make people uncomfortable, because it is so powerful. Yet, it is simultaneously the kind of silence and stillness that is the epitome of peace. When Patanjali codified the philosophy of yoga in the Yoga Sūtras, he wrote, “yogash citta vritti nirodah.” (YS 1.2) Yoga ceases the fluctuations of the mind.
Silence.
Perhaps, God’s silence.
“Like you a guest, a ghost here
Everything will be forgotten
And either I am too alone or I am not alone enough to make each moment holy
(no one bats 1,000 friend
no one
bats 500)
And I have heard God’s silence like the sun
and sought to change
Now
I’m just going to listen to the silence
till the Silence.”
– quoted from the poem “Introduction” in God’s Silence by Franz Wright
Please join me for a 90-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Saturday, March 18th) 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.
Saturday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “07082020 On Death & Dying”]
*NOTE: Franz Wright was married to the translator Elizabeth Oehlkers Wright. In addition to writing and recording some of his poems (including the Clem Snide song “Encounter at 3AM,”) Mr. Wright recorded some of his final thoughts and conversations before he died in 2015. Last Words, is a documentary featuring those final recordings.
“All of this is for your benefit. And as God’s grace reaches more and more people, there will be great thanksgiving, and God will receive more and more glory.
That is why we never give up. Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day.
For our present troubles are small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever!
So we don’t look at the troubles we can see now; rather, we fix our gaze on things that cannot be seen. For the things we see now will soon be gone, but the things we cannot see will last forever.”
– The Second Epistle of Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians 4:15 – 18 (NLT)
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.)
Peace and ease to all during this “Season of Non-violence” and all other seasons!
This is a special post for Tuesday, February 7th. Please note that only the Tuesday evening practice references this profile. You can request a recording of the Tuesday practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
WARNING: The following includes a recounting of the Scottsboro Boys trials.
Post revised March 2024.
“It’s a bad habit we have: We tell the tale of the murder and not the murdered.”
“I’ll also explain why my research has enraged so many people who claim to be experts in the Ripper case.”
“If you want to know how we got the Ripper story so wrong, what those mistakes tell us about ourselves, and why putting the record straight makes some people so very angry, join me, Hallie Rubenhold for Bad Women: The Ripper Retold.”
— quoted from the podcast trailer for Season 1of Bad Women: The Ripper Retold, hosted by Hallie Rubenhold
How we tell a story, especially a story about real life and real events, says a lot about how we feel about our circumstances. Same goes for what we read (if we are in the habit of reading for pleasure) and/or what other kinds of media we consume. On a certain level, it is all about escape. But, are we “escaping” because we need to decompress and give our brains a rest? Or are we “escaping” because we’re not satisfied with our lot in life? If it’s the latter, what would it take to be content, satisfied — happy even — with our lot?
These are the kinds of questions I pose during classes on February 7th. They’re questions that serve as entryways into the practice of santoşā (“contentment”), which is the second niyama (“internal observation”) in the Yoga Philosophy. (Of course, for today, you can think of it as Number 7 in the philosophy’s list of ethics.) Answering the question requires turning inward and doing a little svādhyāya (“self study”), which is the fourth niyama. One way to turn inward and take a look at yourself is to reflect on what you would do and how you would feel in certain situations. Classically, it might be understood that such reflection would be done in the context of sacred text; however, it is also possible to simply put yourself in someone else’s shoes.
For example, would you be content, satisfied — happy even, if you were a girl born in “a little house on the prairie” — or, would you dream of something more? Would you stay on the prairie, unsatisfied, like “a hard luck woman” waiting for your man? Or, would you be like Laura Ingalls Wilder (b. 02/07/1867, in Pepin Country, Wisconsin) and make your dreams come true by writing about your experiences (and all the people you knew)? Even then, how many of your dreams would need to come true for you to be grateful and, therefore, satisfied?
Or, perhaps, like Sinclair Lewis (b. 02/07/1885, in Sauk Centre, Minnesota) you were born in a northern town with “one light blinking off and on.” Would you be content, satisfied — happy even — or, would you dream of something more? Would you be the one in the song who never does the things they thought they would and never knew they could leave? Or, would you be the one, like Mr. Lewis, who left for the big city, wrote about your experiences (and all the people you knew), and became what everyone’s talking about down on Main Street? Even then, would you be grateful (and, therefore, satisfied) or would you be like Carol Milford and want to change everything?
The thing is, there is nothing wrong with dreaming, hoping, and praying for change. There is nothing inherently wrong with wanting to improve your situation and/or the situations of others. Nor is there anything wrong with wanting to change injustice laws and breakdown systems of inequity. You could be a common man, a simple man, a sweet man born in Tornado Alley — like Troyal Garth Brooks (b. 02/07/1962, in Tulsa, Oklahoma) — and dream of sharing your storytelling gifts with the world. But would you be satisfied? Would you be “happy in this modern world? Or do you need more?” And when would the “more” be enough for you to be grateful and, therefore, satisfied?
Take a moment to consider being yourself in one of those other people’s circumstances. Then, let’s go a little deeper.
On Monday, I referenced the daily contemplation elements offered by the Mahatma Gandhi Canadian Foundation for World Peace during this Season for Nonviolence. Remember, these are elements found in the teachings of both Mahatma Gandhi and the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. The element for February 7th is dreaming and it brings to mind the fact that MLK (as well as Gandhi) dreamed of better worlds, more just worlds, more equitable worlds. They were committed to practicing non-violence and passive resistance, but they were not satisfied. They were not content (with the social status quo). Nor should they have been. Some things, after all, are unacceptable.
To practice santoşā, however, we must accept what is (i.e., what exists as it exists in the moment — or as we understand it to exist). Acceptance, in this case, does not mean that we just casually throw our hands up and accept violence, injustice, and inequity as basic staples of life. Neither does it mean that we ignore what is happening around us. Instead, the practice requires us to be truthful about the situation, our roles in the situation, and what we can do to change the situation. The practice also requires us to proceed with clear-minded awareness of how we are connected to everything and everybody and to be dedicated and disciplined in our practice of non-violence and non-harming. Finally, the practice requires that we practice non-attachment; meaning that we do all we can do and then let go with a kind of trustful surrender. This is basically a summary of 9 of the 10 elements that make up the ethics of the Yoga Philosophy.
The elements that make up the corner stone of the Yoga Philosophy overlap commandments found in the Abrahamic religions, precepts found in Buddhism, and values found in philosophies and indigenous religions around the world. These are shared values that stretch back into eons and yet we still have problems… big problems — which means we still need leaders, thinkers, and speakers who can hear what is needed in the world and respond wisely, safely, and justly. Such a man was born in Alabama, during the period of violence that directly preceded the Civil Rights Movement in the United States. His life and his legacy are yet another illustration of a dreamer who was not satisfied, yet made choices for which we can all be grateful.
“Editorials expressed hope that through participation in war, black citizens would gain opportunities at home. Among the outrages that the Reporter chronicled were frequent lynchings across the South, a topic that led [Oscar William Adams, Sr.] to write, ‘It is a shame before the living God and man that we should continue to preach democracy and permit such autocracy and savagery within our own borders.’”
— quoted from Bhamwiki.com (citing Gordon, Tom (May 2, 2018) “Civil decency. Human honesty.” B-Metro
Born in Birmingham, Alabama on February 7, 1925, Oscar William Adams, Jr. was the oldest of two sons born to Oscar William Adams, Sr. and Ella Virginia Adams (née Eaton). His brother, Frank “Doc” Adams became a great jazz clarinetist, saxophonist and bandleader, who was inducted into the Alabama Jazz Hall of Fame. Meanwhile, Oscar, Jr. became the first African American member of Birmingham Bar Association (in 1966) and co-founded Birmingham’s first integrated law firm and its first African American law firm. He also litigated a variety of civil rights cases before becoming the first African American to serve on an Alabama appellate court and a well respected member of the Alabama Supreme Court.
Just like with the other dreamers born on this date, to understand the story of Judge Adams, we have to look back at the causes and conditions of his circumstances — which means going a little deeper into history. And, if we are going a little deeper into Alabama history that informed the dreams of the Adams brothers, we can start with their father, Oscar William Adams, Sr., a journalist and publisher who founded The Birmingham Reporter in 1906.
Unlike Black newspapers published in the North at the time, southern media outlets like The Birmingham Reporter had to tread carefully and be circumspect in it’s coverage of race-related news. To be too critical in opinion pieces or — in many cases — too honest about the facts of certain news stories, might mean that the newspaper, the journalists, and their families could be physically attacked. By all accounts, Oscar William Adams, Sr. had a real knack for creating layouts and crafting articles that told the whole story without explicitly telling the whole story. He couldn’t always tell his readers what happened, but he could show them. He could juxtapose articles about 9 Black kids being tried for rape with articles about almost twice as many white teenagers being exonerated before a trial. His readers had to perfect the skill of reading between the lines. It was like his readers understood the practice of focusing, concentrating, and meditating on the space between the ears and the process of hearing.
“In this state of withdrawal, ‘Great Disincarnation’ the mental coverings composed of rajas and tamas dwindle away and the light of sattwa is revealed.”
— quoted from How to Know God: The Yoga Aphorisms of Patanjali (3:42), translated and with commentary by Swami Prabhavananda and Christopher Isherwood
That aforementioned example is not random; it is one of the ways Oscar William Adams, Sr. covered the Scottsboro Boys, a group of nine African Americans teenagers (age 12 – 19 years old) who were accused of raping two white women on a train full of “hoboes.” Nowadays, people might think of hoboes, tramps, and bums as one and the same. During the Great Depression, however, people very clearly understood that a hobo was someone who was traveling in order to work (but didn’t have the means to pay for their travel). On March 25, 1931, a fight broke out (in Tennessee) on a Southbound train full of Black and white hobos, because a group of white teenagers declared the train “whites only.” Even though there were reportedly the same number of hoboes of each race on the train, the white teenagers ended up leaving the train. Defeated and angry, they told the local sheriff that they had been attacked by the Black teenagers. The sheriff — plus some local residents that he deputized — intercepted the train in Paint Rock, Alabama, and arrested the Black teenagers.
They also arrested two young white women (age 17 and 21 years old).
Now, if you know anything about “bad women,” you know that two unaccompanied white women traveling in the presence of men — especially Black men — didn’t have a lot of choices. They could be labeled as prostitutes — which, in this case (because they crossed state lines) would mean they had violated The White-Slave Traffic Act of 1910, also called the Mann Act, and could face lengthy prison terms. The other option was to say they were raped. Unlike most of the men, the two women knew each other and were actually traveling together. They decided (or, possibly the older one convinced the younger one) that it was in their best interest to say they were raped. A doctor was called in to examine them, but could find no signs of rape or trauma. It would later turn out that no one could truthfully confirm if the women and the teenagers were ever even in the same car. But, none of that mattered: it was 1931; the teenagers would go to court in Scottsboro, Alabama.
At the end of three speedy trials, all eight of the nine teenagers — including one who was almost blind and another who was so disabled that he could barely walk — were convicted and sentenced to death by all-white juries. The youngest of the nine was convicted, but his trial ended in a hung jury, because they couldn’t agree on the penalty: some wanted him to receive the death penalty, despite his age. All of the cases were appealed to the Alabama Supreme Court and then the Supreme Court of the United States (SCOTUS), which overturned the convictions and sent the cases back down to Alabama. A change of venue was granted and all nine headed to court in rural Decatur, Alabama in the Spring of 1933.
Despite the decision for the cases to be re-tried, all nine were under heavy guard and the eight previously sentenced to death were in prison garb. Despite arguments from the defense attorneys (Samuel Leibowitz and Joseph Brodsky, who had also served as second chair on the earlier trials), the trials again had all-white juries. Despite the fact that the youngest of the alleged victims recanted, the defendants were again convicted. The first of the nine was convicted despite the fact that many of the jurors knew he was innocent. But, Decatur was Klan country and the Ku Klux Klan made it very clear what they thought the outcome of the trials should be and what would happen to any juror who didn’t convict and recommend the death penalty. Judge James Edwin Horton set the verdict aside and indefinitely postponed the other trials. He did this, knowing it would end his political career. He also considered a change of venue, but, in the end, the first of the Scottsboro Boys faced his third trial in Decatur.
With a new judge, but no National Guard protection, the second set of retrials took place in Winter 1933. They resulted in two more convictions. Appeals to SCOTUS, in 1935, resulted in the convictions being overturned and the Scottsboro 9 were back in court. This time, however, there was one African American juror: Creed Conyers, the first Black person to serve on an Alabama grand jury since 1877. The newly elected Attorney General served as the prosecuting attorney and the trials lasted from January of 1936 until the summer of 1937. After spending over six years in prison (as adults on death row), the legal fate of the Scottsboro Boys was as follows:
After 4 trials, Haywood Patterson (18 when arrested) was convicted and sentenced to 75 years in prison. This was the first time a Black man in Alabama had been convicted of raping a white woman and had not received the death penalty. He escaped in 1949; end up in Michigan; but then went back to prison on a different case in 1951.
After 3 trials, Clarence Norris (19 when arrested) was convicted and given the death penalty. His sentence was commuted in 1938; he was paroled (and jumped parole) in 1946. He was pardoned in 1976.
After 2 trials, Charlie Weems (19 when arrested) was convicted and sentenced to 105 years. He was paroled in 1943.
After 2 trials, Andrew “Andy” Wright (19 when arrested) was convicted and sentenced to 99 years. He was paroled; violated his parole; and then was placed on parole again (in New York) in 1950.
During his 2nd trial, Ozie Powell (16 when arrested) was shot by a sheriff and suffered brain damage. Somehow, he pleaded guilty to assaulting an officer and received 20 years. The initial rape charges were dropped as part of his plea agreement. He was paroled in 1946.
After 2 trials, the final prosecutor declared Olin Montgomery (17 when arrested) “not guilty” and dropped all charges.
After 2 trials, the final prosecutor declared Willie Roberson (16 when arrested) “not guilty” and dropped all charges.
After 2 trials, Roy Wright (12 when arrested) was deemed “too young” to be convicted and all charges were dropped.
After 2 trials, Eugene Williams (13 when arrested) was deemed “too young” to be convicted and all charges were dropped.
NOTE: The number of trials (noted above) does not count appeals or the fact that the defendants were often in the courtroom when others were being tried. Nor does it reflect the fact that sometimes jurors were swapped (like school kids moving between classrooms). Several of the aforementioned had additional legal issues, but I have not listed them all.
In 1938, the Governor of Alabama (Bibb Graves) made plans to pardon those who were imprisoned, but changed his mind because he didn’t like their attitude and the fact that they continued to declare themselves innocent. In 2013, 82 years after they were arrested, the state of Alabama issued posthumous pardons for Haywood Patterson, Charlie Weems, and Andy Wright.
“Remembering their sharp and pretty Tunes for Sacco and Vanzetti, I said: Here too’s a cause divinely spun For those whose eyes are on the sun, Here in epitome Is all disgrace And epic wrong. Like wine to brace The minstrel heart, and blare it into song.
Surely, I said, Now will the poets sing. But they have raised no cry. I wonder why.”
— quoted from the poem “Scottsboro, Too, Is, Worth Its Song” by Countee Cullen
The trials and tribulations of the Scottsboro Boys inspired a plethora of writers, including Langston Hughes (Scottsboro Limited), Harper Lee (To Kill A Mockingbird), Ellen Feldman (Scottsboro: A Novel), Richard Wright (Native Son), Allen Ginsberg (America), Countee Cullen (“Scottsboro, Too, Is, Worth Its Song”), Jean-Paul Sartre (The Respectful Prostitute [La Putain respectueuse]), Utpal Dutta (মানুষের অধিকারে [The Rights of Man]); as well as creators of the musicals The Scottsboro Boys and Direct from Death Row The Scottsboro Boys; musicians like Lead Belly (“The Scottsboro Boys”) and Rage Against the Machine (“Scottsboro, Too, Is, Worth Its Song”); and filmmakers and political cartoonists.
The events also, inevitably, shaped the thoughts and desires of Oscar William Adams, Jr. — who would have turned 6 years old shortly before the teenagers were arrested and his father started covering the story. He was 12 (the same age the youngest had been when arrested) when the final trials concluded and around 18 (the same age the first to be convicted was when arrested) when the first man was paroled. Can you imagine what it would have been like to grow up in the Birmingham at that time? Regardless of if you visualize yourself as you are, in that situation or if you see yourself as the junior Mr. Adams, can you imagine how this situation might have informed your opinions — of yourself, of people who look like you, as well as of people who don’t look like you? Can you imagine how this situation would have informed your dreams and your decisions about the world?
And, this is all without considering “The Talk.”
I can’t imagine any Black child being satisfied with these circumstances. I can’t imagine any Black kid being content with these circumstances. I can’t imagine any Black teenager not dreaming about a better world; a more just, equitable, and peaceful world.
“The black man does not wish to be the pet of the law. The more blacks become enmeshed in meaningful positions in our society, then the more that society will be come non-discriminatory. His goals and ideals will become identical with goals and ideals of the rest of society. To insist on special treatment, and demand and get integration in other aspects of society is to pursue inconsistent approaches. If a black man is allowed to go as far as his talents will carry him, he will not need special protection from the courts. If he is not, the courts will once again be asked for special protection.”
— quoted from the special concurrence opinion for Beck v. State, 396 So. 2d 645 (1980) by Alabama Supreme Court Justice Oscar W. Adams
We can never know what dreams he would have had and decisions he would have made if Oscar William Adams, Jr. had been someone else’s son and/or had experienced Birmingham in the mid-20th century through someone else’s circumstances. What we do know is that after he graduated from high school, Mr. Adams, Jr. attended two historically Black colleges and universities (HBCUs): Talladega College, Alabama’s oldest private HBCU, where he earned a degree in philosophy (1944) and Howard University, where he earned a law degree (1947). We also know that he came back to Alabama to practice.
Soon after he graduated, Mr. Adams, Jr. was admitted to the Alabama State Bar and opened up his own private practice, where he specialized in civil rights cases. He worked very closely with the Reverend Fred Shuttlesworth, founder of the Alabama Christian Movement for Human Rights (ACMHR) and co-founder of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC), which was instrumental in organizing the Selma-to-Montgomery marches in 1965. He became the first African American member of Birmingham Bar Association (1966) and, in 1967, he and Harvey Burg co-founded the first integrated law firm in Alabama. Two years later, in 1969, he co-founded Birmingham’s first African American law firm with James Baker, an Ivy League lawyer from Philadelphia. The firm became known as Adams, Baker & Clemon, when the original partners were joined by U.W. Clemon, who would become a lot of notable firsts (including Alabama’s first African American federal judge).
Throughout his career as an attorney in private practice, Oscar William Adams, Jr. litigated various kinds of cases on behalf of Martin Luther King Jr. and the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), as well as cases focused on school desegregation (e.g., Armstrong v. Board of Education of City of Birmingham, Ala., 220 F. Supp. 217 (N.D. Ala. 1963)); discrimination cases (e.g., Terry v. Elmwood Cemetery, 307 F. Supp. 369 (N.D. Ala. 1969) and Pettway v. AMERICAN CAST IRON PIPE COMPANY, 332 F. Supp. 811 (N.D. Ala. 1970)); and voting rights cases.
He became the first African American to serve on an Alabama appellate court on October 10, 1980, when an Alabama Supreme Court justice retired due to health issues. Eleven days before he was sworn in, the court heard arguments for Beck v. State, 396 So. 2d 645 (1980), a case about the death penalty and how it was applied. The court’s decision would include a history of the death penalty in Alabama and highlight a period of injustices. However, the court’s statement that “during part of Alabama’s history, [what offenses authorized the imposition of death] reflected the interaction and relative position of the races, especially during the period prior to the Civil War, when slaves and free Negroes were admittedly singled out for special treatment insofar as capital punishment was concerned. Nevertheless, with that one exception…”made it sound as if the death penalty was rarely applied to innocent people purely based on their race — completely negating the fact that (in their lifetimes) it had been thusly applied multiple times. Mr. Adams, Jr. was sworn in on December 17th, listened to a recording of the argument and, two days later, wrote a special concurrence. It was his first official statement from the bench.
“In the early seventies, blacks argued for bifurcated jury trials, and this Court today has mandated such for the State of Alabama. In the seventies, blacks asked that sentences for rape and other offenses be not discriminatorily and freakishly imposed.”
— quoted from the special concurrence opinion for Beck v. State, 396 So. 2d 645 (1980) by Alabama Supreme Court Justice Oscar W. Adams
After completing the remaining two years of the unexpired term he had assumed, he decided to run for the office. The largest bar associations endorsed him, rather than his white counterparts, and in 1982, he became the first African American to be elected (by popular vote) to a statewide constitutional office in Alabama. He served on the Alabama Supreme Court until October 31, 1994, when retired from the bench. After his retirement from being behind the bench, he returned to the front: working with the Birmingham law firm of White, Dunn & Booker (now White, Arnold & Dowd). He also served as co-chairman of the Second Citizens’ Conference on Judicial Elections and Campaigns.
Oscar William Adams Jr. was replaced with the state’s second African American Supreme Court Justice, Ralph D. Cook. It would make for a great story if, in the intervening years — between 1980 and 1994 and between 1994 and today — more African American lawyers had become judges who became justices in the state of Alabama. That would be super satisfying.
Unfortunately, I can’t truthfully tell that story.
Associate Justice Cook retired from the bench in 2001. John H. England Jr served as a justice on the Alabama Supreme Court justice from 1999 until 2001. (His son, John H. England, III is one of a handful of African American judges serving in Alabama’s federal courts.) According to the Brennan Center for Justice’s 2022 update, Alabama is currently one of 28 states with no Black justices. Furthermore, it is one of six states where Black residents make up at least 10% of the population. Specifically, 35% of Alabama’s population is classified as people of color and 27% of the total population identifies as Black. Yet, all nine of the Supreme Court justices, all five members of the Court of Criminal Appeals, and all five of the Court of Civil Appeals are white.
Quite often, when statistics like these are presented, some people will say representation doesn’t matter as much as education and experience. Well, I am just grateful that more and more people are getting the education and the experience that puts them in the pipeline. That appreciation for the way things are changing is part of the practice of santoşā. If you ask me if I am actually satisfied and content to wait, I can honestly say that I have no choice; because I can’t (directly) do anything about it. And that acceptance (and awareness of what is and is not in my control) is the non-attachment part of the practice.
Of course, the next logical question is: Well, when will you be satisfied? When will you be content? When posed with a similar question, SCOTUS associate justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg had a pretty succinct answer. I’m not sure if it would be my answer; but it is worth considering what the country would be like — what the world would be like — if the tables turned.
“Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg famously said, ‘I’m sometimes asked, “When will there be enough [women on the Supreme Court]?” And I say when there are nine. People are shocked. But there’d been nine men, and nobody’s ever raised a question about that.’
Asking, ‘How diverse is diverse enough?’ still represents a tick–the–box mentality rather than embracing the types of cultural, innovation, and bottom–line changes we have described here. When organizations start to embrace the breakthrough diversity can represent, we can move beyond thinking about quotas and targets. The real change we are talking about takes us far past ‘the one/the few’ to as many hires as it takes to create a culture of belonging and move our sector into the future.”
— quoted from “What Is Diverse Enough” in “Chapter 4. A Clear Case” of Creating Cultures of Belonging: Cultivating Organization where Women and Men Thrive by Beth Birmingham and Eeva Sallinen Simard (forward by Myal Greene and Emily Sarmiento)
PRACTICE NOTES: I don’t necessarily have a standard sequence for a February 7th practice, but it is a practice that leans towards having a fair amount of balance. Sometimes, after completing a portion of the practice, I pose the questions, “Would you be satisfied if this was the end of the practice? Would you grateful (if you got what you needed), or would you still be wishing, hoping, praying for what you wanted? What would cause you to be more grateful and, therefore, more joyful?”
Every once in a while, I’ll even throw in a tolāsana (scale pose).
Happy Spring Festival! Happy Carnival! Peace and ease to all during this “Season of Non-violence” and all other seasons!
This is a special post for Friday, February 3nd, which is also known as “The Day the Music Died. In 2023, it was also the 13th day of the Spring Festival, which is one of the days when people eat “clean” (more on that in the Friday post). In addition to all of that (and more) it is the anniversary of the birth of a man who (partially) inspired a big, barrier breaking, change in history – a change many people celebrate without ever knowing this particular man’s name.
“Rule 303: If you have the means at hand, you have the responsibility to act.”
“Do what you can, when you can, as much as you can, for as long as you can.”
– the t-shirt and (a paraphrased version of) common refrains on the YouTube channel “Beau of the Fifth Column”
Normally, on Day 13 of the Lunar New Year, I focus on what it means to be clean and practice some kind of “detox” sequence that highlights how the body naturally eliminates waste and how it is just as important for us to let go of things we don’t need physically as it is for us to let go of things that no longer serve us mentally, emotionally, energetically, and/or spiritually. This is also a day when some people celebrate the birthday of the “God of War” – who is associated with empathy and “brotherhood” – and so it can be a good day to reflect on how letting something go can actually bring us closer together.
Sometimes, however, we are not ready to let go. Sometimes, circumstances force us to figure out how to deal with the loss of a friend, a family member, a “brother” or “sister” – even someone we have never (physically) met and will never meet. Just as their is an inhale, a literal “inspiration,” there is an exhale – a literal “expiration” – and part of being alive is dealing with death. The big difference is that when we consciously bring our awareness to our breath, we can consciously and peaceful engage the concept of beginnings and endings.
Unfortunately, everyone isn’t promised peaceful beginnings and endings. Unfortunately, everyone doesn’t get to live long lives and pass peacefully in their sleep, surrounded by people who love them and who treated them well. Like so many recent years, this is one of those years when Lunar New Year celebrations here in the United States have been marred by horrible tragedies and losses that are beyond comprehension. Yet, people continue to come together to figure out how to move forward as a community. People keep connecting in order to honor rituals and traditions despite (or sometimes because of) the fear, anger, frustration, anxiety, grief, and dismay that arises.
People continue to live… and laugh and love… and play music – even though, as I mentioned before, today is the day the music died.
“For years, [Dr. Mike Miller], a research cardiologist, has been studying the effects of happiness — or things that make people happy — on our hearts. He began his research with laughter, and found watching funny movies and laughing at them could actually open up blood vessels, allowing blood to circulate more freely.
Miller thought, if laughter can do that, why not music? So, he tested the effects of music on the cardiovascular system. ‘Turns out music may be one of the best de-stressors — either by playing or even listening to music,’ said Miller.”
– quoted from a 2009 CNN Health segment entitled, “The power of music: It’s a real heart opener” by Val Willingham, CNN Medical Producer
Normally, on this date on the Gregorian calendar, I tell the story of the disastrous “Winter Dance Party” tour and how a plane carrying Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and J. P. “The Big Bopper” Richardson crashed just outside of Clear Lake, Iowa, today in 1959. The tragic loss of the the three stars and the pilot, Roger Peterson, as they were traveling to Moorhead, MN, is compounded by the fact that they were all so young, that they were all really started to live their lives as husbands and fathers, and that the three musicians were right on the precipice of making sure their names would never be forgotten simply because of their music. Over the years, as I have recounted this story, I have encountered people who were directly connected to the events of 1959, people who remembered when it happened, people who only know the story because of the music the events inspired, and people who realized they only knew the music of the three legends because a popular musician had covered one of their hit singles.
As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, it is not uncommon for people to hear one of these stories and realize they knew the big picture, but not all of the details. What happens, however, when you realize that for all the details that you know, there’s a missing piece of history that no one ever mentioned?
“‘Follis was a natural hitter and he had an ease about him and a confident smile that always seemed to worry opposing pitchers,’ one report said. ‘As a football player and as a baseball player he gained the respect of his associates and opponents as well by his clean tactics and his gameness,’ said another.”
– quoted from “Charles Follis” by Milt Roberts (originally in Black Sports, Nov. 1975), reproduced in THE COFFIN CORNER: Vol. 2, No. 1 (1980)
Charles W. Follis was born February 3, 1879, in Cloverdale, Virginia. One of nine children born to Catherine Matilda Anderson Follis and James Henry Follis, who worked on a farm, Charles had fours sisters and four brothers (one of whom died from an football-related injury when he was about 19 years old). In 1885, the family moved to Wooster, Ohio, and the eldest Follis son started attending Wooster High School, where he helped establish a football team (on which his brothers would also eventually play). With Charles Follis as it’s captain and lead player, the mostly-white Wooster High School football team was unbeatable and, for the first year of it’s existence, no one could even score against them.
When he graduated from high school, in 1901, Charles Follis enrolled at the University of Wooster (now known as the College of Wooster), a private liberal arts college founded by the Presbyterian Church. While he ended up playing baseball for his university team, he decided to play football with the Wooster Athletic Association. It was while playing football that Charles Follis earned the nickname “The Black Cyclone.” He also earned a reputation an amazingly formidable competitor. He was so good, in fact, that after he played against the all-white Shelby Blues (part of the “Ohio League” that competed for the Ohio Independent Championship (OIC) and would evolve into the National Football League (NFL)), the manager of the Shelby Blues convinced Charles Follis to sign a contract – making Charles “The Black Cyclone” Follis the first African American to play professional football on an integrated team. Frank C. Schiffer, the manager of the Shelby Blues, also got Mr. Follis a job at a hardware store that would accommodate his practice and playing schedule.
About a year after the Shelby Blues signed Charles Follis as a halfback, a young student from Ohio Wesleyan University started playing for pay. That student has a name that will forever be enshrined in sports history and even in the minds of lay sports historians: Branch Rickey.
“Rickey later said: ‘I may not be able to do something about racism in every field, but I can sure do something about it in baseball.’”
– quoted from the “Sports Heroes Who Served: WWI Soldier Helped Desegregate Baseball” by David Vergun, DOD News (dated July 7, 2020, U. S. Department of Defense website)
Charles Follis and Branch Rickey not only played football together as Shelby Blues, they also play against each other when Mr. Rickey coached the Ohio Wesleyan University football team. So, Branch Rickey had a front row seat to witness the athletic ability of Charles Follis as well as the way “The Black Cyclone” handled the adversity of dealing with racism on and off the field. That racism not only caused Mr. Follis to be isolated and separated from team functions – even in his hometown of Wooster – it also lead to insults and (actually, physical) injuries during the games. One of those injuries, or the culmination of those injuries, ended Charles Follis’s football career.
However, Charles Follis wasn’t finished with sports and football wasn’t the only place where ran into Branch Rickey. The two athletes also found themselves in direct competition when they started playing as catchers for Ohio college baseball teams. Even though they were rivals, they seemed to share mutual respect and friendship with each other. Charles Follis became the first African American catcher to move from the college leagues to the Negro League. Meanwhile, Branch Rickey coached college baseball at Ohio Wesleyan – where he coached another African American catcher, Charles Thomas – and then signed a contract with the Terre Haute Hottentots of the Class B Central League, making his professional Major League Baseball (MLB) debut on June 20, 1903.
“In a 1975 Akron Beacon Journal story, the late John M. Smith of Shelby was interviewed a year before his death. As a teenager, Smith watched Follis star for the Shelby Blues.
‘Could he run?’ Smith asked incredulously, ‘Lord almighty! The man was the best I’ve ever seen. Could he run!’”
– quoted from the Akron Beacon Journal clip posted on the Charles Follis Foundation website
In 1905, Charles Follis was fast becoming the superstar of the Cuban Giants, the first fully salaried African American professional baseball team. He was an all-around all star who stole bases, made double and triple plays, and was known as a power hitter as well as one of the most popular and well-liked players on the team. He made headlines during every game and forced other teams to pull out all the stops in an effort to best him. A rival team from Elyria, Ohio, thought they could beat biggest “giant” by bringing in a ringer: Herbert “Buttons” Briggs, a former Chicago Cubs pitcher. On May 16, 1906, the MLB pitcher faced the “cyclone”… and lost, big time. As the first batter, in the first inning, against the first pitch, Charles Follis hit a home run. He literally hit it out of the park and would end the game four-for-six against the pitcher who had previously won 20 games in one MLB season.
Within a few years of that 1906 season opener, three of the biggest names on the field that day had all passed away at young ages: John Bright, the Cuban Giants pitcher died in 1909 or 1908; Herbert Theodore “Buttons” Briggs caught pneumonia in 1910 and died of tuberculosis in 1911; Charles Follis caught pneumonia during a game in 1910 and died April 5, 1910.
“The [old-timers] in Wooster, Shelby, and Cleveland still talk about him today… but historians forget him… young sports fans probably never heard of him before. In Wooster [Cemetery], a thin, weathered headstone, slightly tilted by the winds and snow of more than 65 years, marks his final resting place. Today it is viewed as a local historical site.”
– quoted from “Charles Follis” by Milt Roberts (originally in Black Sports, Nov. 1975), reproduced in THE COFFIN CORNER: Vol. 2, No. 1 (1980)
Around the same time Charles Follis was besting MLB players, his college teammate and rival was moving up to the majors. The only problem was that Branch Rickey’s stats were lacking. Two years into his contract, the St. Louis Browns (formerly the Wisconsin Brewers) became the New York Highlanders (later the New York Yankees). On June 28, 1907, Mr. Rickey, the backup catcher, was forced to play a game while injured. It was a disaster. He couldn’t throw, he struck out three times, and the opposing team (the Washington Senators) stole a whopping 13 bases. Not surprisingly, that was his one and only season with the Highlanders.
Branch Rickey would go back to coaching college football, make another go as a baseball player (1914) and as a baseball manager with the reconstructed St. Louis Browns (1913–1915, 1919). Then, after serving in the United States Army during World War I and spending that final year in the front office of the St. Louis Browns, he became General Manager of the St. Louis Cardinals (which had been the St. Louis Browns née St. Louis Brown Stockings, before the Brewers used the name). The MLB catcher some described as lackluster, excelled as a manager. He was an innovator, especially when dealing with conflict and controversy. He became General Manager of the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1943 and immediately started laying groundwork for some groundbreaking.
Even though he would later talk about his experiences as a coach of a Black player and as a member of the military (before the U. S. military integrated), what many people may not know is that, before that, he had a rival, a teammate, a peer, a friend – someone he admired: a man named Charles W. Follis, a man who just happened to be Black.
“On October 17, 1903, Rickey felt the ‘Black Cyclone’s’ full power when he ran their ends dizzy for 20, 25, 35 and 70 yard gains, the last being a touchdown. After that game Rickey praised Follis, calling him ‘a wonder.’ It was the power of his example, his character, and his grace that convinced Rickey, that color could not belie his greatness. The rest is history….”
– quoted from the “Background” section of the Charles Follis Foundation website
PRACTICE NOTES: I actually have several baseball-related sequences and themes in my notebooks. They range from (sort of) silly to (very) serious, from meditative Restorative and Yin Yoga to “slow flow” and vigorous vinyasas. Philosophically, what the all have in common is a focus on teamwork, on doing one’s best and then letting go, and on an awareness of what happens when we become part of something bigger than our individual selves. Physically, what they all have in common is asymmetrically, unilateral poses with special awareness of the feet, hips, core/midsection, and shoulder girdle.
Of course, we can’t have a practice about baseball without a seventh-inning stretch and the wave.
### “Take Me Out To The Ballgame” ~ Jack Norworth and Albert Von Tilzer ###
[For Those Who Missed It: The following was originally posted in 2021. This is an abridged version with updated class details. ]
“Start with a dream. Chase after it. Run with it. Hold FAST to Your Dreams. (Your dream is worth chasing.)”
– A little inspiration from Run Like Rel
The old Downtown Minneapolis YMCA was always full of people working to maximize their time. Some thought about how they could spend their time and, always seeming to come up short; they ultimately sacrificed what they wanted to do for themselves or what they could do for others. Then there were people who really inspired me, in part because they figured out ways to help others while they did what they loved. Some of those inspirational people were people who run, like Chris Scotch and Deb B, who found established organizations (and people) who could benefit from their running. Also on my inspirational leader board: twin sisters Jessica and Ariel Kendall.
To be honest, I probably wouldn’t have been able to tell the twins apart in the beginning except for the fact that one came to yoga regularly and one loved to run. They both were interested in inspiring kids and helping kids bridge achievement gaps while developing confidence and leadership skills. The runner, “Rel” had an idea – a dream, really – that they could help others through running. So, she started a blog, created some coaching and mentoring opportunities, and partnered with some already established corporations, races, and non-profits. Then off she went, running – on and off the trails. Things look really different today than they did in five, going on six, years ago, but the sisters are still encouraging young people to “Run like Rel.” There are several lessons in that little story; lessons you can run with; lessons about how life is more like a marathon than a sprint.
Speaking of marathons…
The Battle of Marathon was notable for a number of reasons. It marked the end of King Darius I of Persia’s attempt to invade Greece and allowed classical Greek civilization to be firmly established. Although Darius the Great’s son, Xerxes I, would be more successful than his father, the battle in 490 BCE was a turning point in history that lead to the beginning of “Western Civilization” as we know it. One might even argue that the modern concept of democracy might be very different were it not for the Battle of Marathon.
Ancient Greece was made up of city-states or “polis” consisting of an urban area protected by walls and/or geographic barriers and a high point or “acropolis” (city-top) which contained the religious and municipal buildings. At one point there were thousands of city-states, including Corinth (Kórinthos), Thebes (Thíva), Syracuse (Siracusa), Aegina (Égina), Rhodes (Ródos), Árgos, Erétria, and Elis. Each one had its own form of government and culture. For example, Sparta (Spárti) had two hereditary kings with equal power and a “council of elders,” plus a strong army. Athens (Athína), on the other hand, operated under a form of democracy whereby all adult male citizens (living within the city walls) had an assembly in order to a vote. While each city-state had its own governing philosophy and would sometimes battle against one another, they were invested in this socio-political structure and would, therefore, fight together against tyrannical powers like the kings of ancient Persia.
King Darius was particularly angry when citizens of Athens (Athína) and Erétria came together in 498 BCE to support the Ionian Revolt (499 to 493 BCE). But, once his forces regrouped and squashed the revolt, he set his eyes on the Greek city-states. He eventually destroyed ancient Erétria, but – despite outnumbering the Athenians (and the thousand or so Plataeans that joined them) by over two to one – his army was once again thwarted.
“He cometh from the purple hills, Where the fight has been to-day; He bears the standard in his hand— Shout round the victor’s way. The sun-set of a battle won, Is round his steps from Marathon.”
– quoted from the poem “Eucles Announcing the Victory of Marathon.” by L. E. L. (Letitia Elizabeth Landon)
The Battle of Marathon makes for a good story. It’s one of those inspiring stories of the underdogs prevailing and it’s one of the stories that bolstered the ancient Greeks morale. In fact, the story of how the Athenians, with the assistance of a relatively small group of Plataeans, conquered the enormous Persian army is also notable because it is one of the earliest recorded battles. There are, however, some discrepancies in what’s recorded. For instance, depending on who you ask (and how they track time), the Battle of Marathon either happened on August 12th or it happened today, on September 12th, 490 BEC. Then there’s the story of an Athenian who either saw a Persian ship turn in the direction of Athens and ran for miles in order to make sure the city’s defenses were raised or was sent from Athens to Sparta to ask for reinforcements and then ran back to let the assembly know that the Spartans were in the middle of a religious festival and would not be joining the battle. Then there’s the fact that no one can agree on said hero’s name: was it Pheidippides or was it Philippides? Or, wait; was it Thersipus of Erchius or Eucles?
For the record, Herodotus (“The Father of History”) – who was born shortly after the war and in an area ruled by Persia – wrote about a professional messenger named Pheidippides or Philippides who ran from Athens to Sparta and then back again. Said messenger would have run 240 kilometers (150 miles) each way – which today would be considered an (ultra) ultra-marathon. Herodotus made no mention of a messenger running from Marathon to Athens. Instead, he wrote about the messenger’s encounter with Pan – which fed into the idea that the Athenians won because Pan caused panic in the hearts and minds of the Persian military and also explained the relatively ornate shrine to Pan under the Acropolis. Herodotus concluded that the Athenians quick marched back home to prevent a coastal attack – which makes sense since the Greeks were outnumbered ten to one by the Persian navy, which was basically just guarding their ships.
The story of someone running from Marathon to Athens appeared around the 1st century AD in an essay by Plutarch that referenced an earlier work that would have appeared about a hundred years after the time of Herodotus. This was serious commentary. However, around the 2nd century AD, Lucian of Samasota wrote a satirical piece about the same story. Only the messenger’s name was different: in the earlier works he was Thersipus of Erchius or Eucles; in Lucian’s satire he was back to Philippides. Regardless of his name, this particular messenger would have somehow had to run around Mount Pentelicus (also known as Mount Pentelikon). The longer of the two routes would have been approximately 40 kilometers (25 miles) and would have taken him up some foothills before a final descent into Athens. The other route, of 35 kilometers (22 miles), was shorter, but would have included a steep climb (of over 5 kilometers or 3.1 miles) right at the beginning.
The runner announcing victory with his last breath has been the inspiration for a lot of art, including an 1834 sculpture by Jean-Pierre Cortot (entitled “The Soldier of Marathon announcing the Victory”) and a painting by Benjamin Haydon, which was published as an engraving by S. Sangster in 1836. The engraving and the accompanying poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) referred to the messenger as Eucles. However, when Luc-Olivier Merson painted the messenger in 1869 – in what I consider a halfway decent, one-armed variation of “Cobra Pose” – he is back to being “The Soldier of Marathon.” Ten years later, in 1879, Robert Browning wrote the (relatively short) poem “Pheidippides” and not only changed the name of the runner, but also his path (alas, he did not change the hero’s ultimate demise). According to Browning, Pheidippides ran from Athens to Sparta to Athens, then ran to Marathon and then back to Athens. For anyone keeping count: that would be about 550 – 560 kilometers (344.2 – 350 miles) in a matter of days.
As astounding and impossible as those distances might seem, the more modern accounts depicted the messenger as a professional runner – someone who had trained to run distances – and became an inspiration for the organizers of the first Olympic Games. From 1896 until 1920, the Olympics hosted a race that was approximately 40-kilometer (25-mile). In 1921, the “marathon” was standardized as 42.195 kilometers (or 26 miles, 385 yards).
Today there are over 800 marathons held around the world, many of which have wheelchair divisions, and millions of people training to go the distance. There are couch-to-marathon training programs designed to prepare people in 12 weeks or 24 weeks. There are even “Zombie” training programs, because (let’s be real), if being chased by brain-eating Zombies won’t get you running, then nothing will. One big lesson from these training programs is that every day can get you closer to your goal – even the rest day – and that’s one of the key elements to pacing yourself.
“—at least I can breathe, Fear in thee no fraud from the blind, no lie from the mute!
Such my cry as, rapid, I ran over Parnes’ ridge; Gully and gap I clambered and cleared till, sudden, a bar Jutted, a stoppage of stone against me, blocking the way. Right! for I minded the hollow to traverse, the fissure across: ‘Where I could enter, there I depart by! Night in the fosse?; Athens to aid? Tho’ the dive were thro’ Erebos, deg. thus I obey– Out of the day dive, into the day as bravely arise! No bridge Better!’–when–ha! what was it I came on, of wonders that are?”
– quoted from the poem “Pheidippides” by Robert Browning
If you’ve run a little or a lot, you know it’s important to pace yourself – and the key elements to pacing yourself as you run can also be important elements to pacing yourself on and off the mat. Now matter who you are or what you do, it’s also nice to have some tips on pacing yourself. The first list is inspired by runners and the idea of preparing for a marathon. The second list (further down) is a method of self-care called P.A.C.E.
Take it day by day. One of the lessons we can take from Pheidippides (or Philippides, or Thersipus of Erchius, or Eucles) is that we are only guaranteed this present moment. So, consider how you want to spend the time you’ve been given. Remember, every breath you take is the beginning of a new moment, a new day, a new week, a new month, a new year. How do you want to spend your time? Also, with whom do you want to spend your time? Finally, how does your time (and how you use it) serve you and the people around you?
Keep breathing. In a vinyāsa practice, where we move as we practice, our pace is set by the breath. Breathing is also critical in a foot race (of any duration). So, you have to figure out a way to keep breathing in different positions. Patanjali’s Yoga Sūtras tells us that the “secret” to breathing deeply is a steady and stable, easy and comfortable – even joyful – foundation. Throughout most of our practice, we are on our feet; so, it’s good to check in with how your feet feel. (This is also a reminder to all runners and potential runners: If your feet/shoes don’t feel steady and stable, easy and comfortable – maybe even joyful – before you get moving, you might be headed towards an injury or some plantar fasciitis.)
Keep your goal in mind and keep moving step by step. If you are anything like me, once you envision a possibility and decide where you want to go in life, you want things to hurry up and happen. You may not mind the work, you may even enjoy it, but you can still be impatient – and that’s when it’s important to remember why you’re doing what you’re doing and that every step counts just like every day matters. When thinking about your “goal,” consider if you’re all about the journey or if you’re in it for the destination. One caveat, however, is to not focus so much on the medal or physical prize you may receive in the end. Think, instead, about how the goal serves you (how it brings you peace, balance, maybe even joy) and how it will feel to accomplish your goal. Finally, map out your steps!
There’s a mountain, there’s always a mountain. It doesn’t matter which version of the story you use, the runner always has to get around the mountain (and it’s a forest filled mountain). The mountain is a reminder that every one of us is going to run into an obstacle at some point in our journey. Like the Athenian, there are some “mountains” we know are coming (when we map out our steps) and, therefore, we can consider different paths. One obvious obstacle, on and off the mat, is that we’re going to get tired and run out of steam. Another is that you could injure or strain something. What’s your plan for those possibilities? How do you encourage yourself to keep going? Who else encourages you and cheers you on?
The stoic Emperor Marcus Aurelius said that the obstacle is the way. So, if you are prepared to dig down deep inside of yourself in order to get around (or over) the obstacles you know are coming, then you can also dig down deep when you run into the obstacle you didn’t expect.
Stay positive and keep breathing (again), even if you have to let something go. In truth, there are a lot of other tips that runner’s use when training and when racing, but a positive attitude is always helpful and I keep coming back to the breath because it is one of our primary sources of fuel. We can’t get where we are going if we’re not breathing. Also, poor breathing can cause the body to tighten up and not function properly. So, if you want to stay loose and keep moving, you have to keep breathing. Finally, many of the stories (and pictures) of the “Marathon runner” indicate that he dropped all of his belongings so that he could run faster. Take a moment to consider what’s weighing you down and holding you back. Take a moment to consider that there’s a fine balance between a healthy ego that helps you get things done and an overblown (or defeated) ego that becomes yet another obstacle.
“Next, bring your awareness to your present moment experience. Notice any areas of tension or tightness in the body. Many of you have been donning PPE on shift and this may have left some residual constriction in your body. Observe any physical sensations you have, along with your thoughts and thought patterns in the here and now. If any unpleasant emotions arise as you are doing this, I invite you to anchor in the breath, breathing fully and deeply as you stay with your experience.”
– quoted from the article “P.A.C.E. Yourself: A Practice Honoring Healthcare Workers” by Reena Kotecha, MBBS, BSc Hons (posted March 30, 2021 on mindful.org)
Dr. Reena Kotecha is the London-based founder of the “Mindful Medics” Programme. She holds dual degrees in Medicine and Neuroscience & Mental from Imperial College London and, as a result of her own experiences with work-related stress and burnout, has studied Āyurvedic medicine, prāṇāyāma, and mindfulness meditation. Last March, as countries around the world were locking down because of the pandemic, Dr. Reena Kotecha offered healthcare workers a self-care practice called “P.A.C.E. Yourself.” Here’s a condensed version of the P. A. C. E. steps, which I think could be helpful to anyone. (NOTE: The descriptions below are my explanations. You can find Dr. Kotecha’s brief explanations here and her recorded meditation below.)
Permission. Give yourself permission to be who you are, as you are, in this moment – and give yourself permission to take care of yourself. Dr. Kotecha suggests using a phrase (like “I offer myself this opportunity for well-being.’’) to encourage yourself to pay attention to your own health and wellness.
Awareness and Anchor.Be present and breathe into what is. (See quote above for Dr. Kotecha’s explanation.)
Compassion. Just as we do on the mat, once you’ve noticed how you feel – and “express a little gratitude for the sensation, the information that informs your practice” – offer yourself a little kindness and self-compassion. What would feel good in this moment? What would allow you to move into the next moment with a little more peace and ease?
Envision. Just as we do in other practices, visualize yourself moving forward with peace and ease. Dr. Kotecha’s instruction includes space for visualizing how your feelings might change as you move out of the “practice space” and into the action place. Like the previous list’s steps 4 and 5, this is an opportunity to consider how you breathe through the challenges ahead.
“‘Remember to enjoy it’ says [running coach Tom] Craggs, ‘sometimes take the headphones out, suck the crowd in, when you get to those last few miles dedicate each one to someone important in your life. You’ll bring it home and have a fantastic race.’”
– quoted from the Runner’s World article entitled “Last-minute pacing tips for your best half-marathon: You’ve put in all the hard work in training, but here’s how to make sure you stick to race pace.” by Jane McGuire
Please join me on the virtual mat today (Monday, September 12th) at 5:30 PM for a 75-minute virtual yoga practice.
This is a 75-minute Common Ground Meditation Center practice that, in the spirit of generosity (dana), is freely given and freely received. 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.
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 