Signed, Sealed… September 29, 2020

(“Shana Tovah U’Metukah!” to anyone who is observing the High Holidays. May your name be written and sealed in the Book of Life.)

“On Rosh Hashanah it is written, and on Yom Kippur it is sealed.
How many will pass and how many will be born?
Who will live and who will die?”

– quoted from the poem “Unetaneh Tokef” (“Let Us Speak of the Awesomeness”)

It occurred to me today (Monday) that each of the Abrahamic religions has a day on their calendars that is described as “one of the holiest days” or “the holiest day” of the year. Each of these days is observed with solemnity and yet each is also described as joyous. There is at least one final element (although you could call it two) that these three days have in common. But, before we reach that final element, consider the dichotomy of the first two elements: solemnity and joyous. From the outside looking in, it seems strange: how can these two things go together? From the outside looking in there is a clear disconnect; however, when you go deeper the connection becomes very clearer.

Last night (Sunday) at sunset marked the beginning of Yom Kippur, “the Day of Atonement,” which is the last of the “Ten Days of Awe” or “Ten Days of Atonement” that make up the High Holidays. The ten days are considered the holiest of days, but it is this final day that is considered the holiest. It is a day when people within the Jewish community fast, refrain from bathing and using oils or lotions, and also avoid wearing leather shoes. People will spend the day praying, reflecting, and repenting. As Teshuvah (or Tchuvah) is still the focal point, it makes sense that the ritual of the Yom Kippur service is serious. After all, who has fun admitting they did something wrong and asking for forgiveness? The service includes a communal opportunity to confess (and take responsibility for one’s actions); identify the cause of inflictions (in order to plan a way to stop making the mistake); and an absolution or forgiveness of sins/transgressions.

“‘When you make a vow to the Lord, your G-d, you shall not delay in paying it, for the Lord, your G-d, will demand it of you, and it will be [counted as] a sin for you.

But if you shall refrain from making vows, you will have no sin.

Observe and do what is emitted from your lips just as you have pledged to the Lord, your G-d, as a donation, which you have spoken with your mouth.’”

– Devarim – Deuteronomy (23:22 – 24)

In Judaism, a vow is restriction, a limitation. We don’t always look at vows that way in a secular sense, but it is also true (outside of Judaism) that any oath, precept, or vow someone takes curtails or inhibits their behavior. This is not necessarily a bad thing. Consider how marriage vows and taking an oath for a government office establish certain expectations. Consider how the yamās in the yoga philosophy are “external restraints” as well as universal commandments and how they establish a code of conduct. Consider also, however, that similar to legal prohibitions, we may find ourselves breaking the restraints under the guise of wanting more freedom. The only problem is that sometimes, in the process of “living without limits,” we hurt ourselves or others. We break trust and then we need a way to heal.

Kol Nidrei is a prayer chanted by the hazzan (“cantor”) three times. It essentially states, “Every vow and bond (or self-imposed prohibition), every oath, every promise, every obligation or every renunciation” made between the current Yom Kippur and the next will be cancelled, absolved, considered null and void – as if they never existed. Each time is a little louder than the previous times. So that what begins as a whisper ends in almost a shout. Think about a child or someone who is deeply ashamed of something they have done; there is a hesitancy the first time they speak and ask for forgiveness and then, eventually, there is a confidence in the rightness of their action (related to repentance).

Another part of the service is Al Chet (“for the sin”). While it is only recited during Yom Kippur; it is recited nine to ten times (depending on tradition) during the Yom Kippur service. Al Chet is a list of all the different ways in which one can/might/will sin throughout the year, starting with “For the sin which we have committed before You under duress or willingly” and ending with a summary that covers everything one may have been forgotten (or not even have known). Each grouping of transgressions is divided by the words, “For all these, God of pardon, pardon us, forgive us, atone for us.” And, finally, it states that no one else can forgive and pardon [everything].

No, these prayers are not a “Get out of jail free” card that allows people to run around all year lying and breaking promises. Neither are they the spiritual equivalent of crossing your fingers behind your back. There’s no glee that you’re going to be able to get away with something. And, no, if you’re wondering, none of this is chanted or sung in a way that makes you want to jump out of your seat and dance. Yet, Yom Kippur is considered a joyous occasion. Why?

“To err is human, to forgive, divine.”

– quoted from “An Essay on Criticism” (line 525) by Alexander Pope

Consider, for a moment, that we all make mistakes. We all stumble, fall, sin, hurt ourselves and others. But, how great is it to get a second chance! How great is it to get up and get moving, to have a fresh start and a new lease on life. In the Jewish community, Yom Kippur is a joyous day, because it is day committed to realigning one’s life and to renewing one’s relationship with G-d. That is the ultimate return/turn (i.e., teshuvah), the turning towards G-d and turning towards one’s true self. It is an opportunity to recognize, “here is where I went wrong and here, right here, is how I get back on track.”

To me, “Good Friday” is a comparable day in the Christian tradition. And, as I’ve mentioned before, it can be considered really weird to think of someone being tried, tortured, and crucified as “good.” Remember, however, that the Old Testament definition of “good” is that something is meaningful and serves its purpose. The purpose of the crucifixion, in Christianity, is the absolution of sin – and Christians who observe the Lenten season and the Easter do so in order to retain or reconnect to G-d.

Have you noticed the common denominators? First there is a desire to be connected to the Divine and then there is the recognition that we (as humans) make mistakes which could keep us separated – except for the fact that these days and the rituals associated with them provide a way restore, reconnect, return to that desired connection.

“Who will be calm and who will be tormented?
Who will become poor and who will get rich?
Who will be made humble and who will be raised up?
But teshuvah and tefillah and tzedakah [return and prayer and righteous acts]
deflect the evil of the decree.”

– quoted from the poem “Unetaneh Tokef” (“Let Us Speak of the Awesomeness”)

Just as is the case with mundane relationships, maintaining a spiritual or sacred relationship requires sacrifice and compromise (i.e., submitting to another’s will). This is highlighted in the third holiday I referenced: Eid al-Adha, “the Feast of the Sacrifice.”

In Islām, each day of fasting during the month of Ramadān concludes with a communal breaking of the fast. At the end of the month, there is a celebration in the form of Eid al-Fitr, the “Festival of the Breaking of the Fast.” Then, even quicker than Sukkot comes on the heels of Yom Kippur in the Jewish tradition, Muslims observe Eid al-Adha, which is the “Feast of the Sacrifice.” Eid al-Adha is observed in recognition of Ibrahim (Abraham) being willing to sacrifice his son Ishmael. While it is easy to see how one would celebrate the end of a month of fasting and how that is considered holy, it is this second Eid that is considered the holiest of the two. Again, from the outside it seems weird to celebrate someone’s willingness to kill their own child. (Spoiler Alert: He doesn’t actually do it.) However, it is his willingness that is the focus here. Ibrahim (Abraham) being willing to submit to G-d’s authority, as well as the Divine intervention that provides an alternative for the sacrifice, is what is celebrated.

Even though there are some differences (and more similarities than what I’ve mentioned), all three holidays focus on Divine mercy and that very real, very human desire to be part of something bigger than our individual selves. People want a deeper connection to their true/best self, to their community, and some people also want a deeper connection to G-d. Again, the desire for connection is a human desire, even felt by people outside of these faiths and traditions.  And whether we are inside or outside of a faith, community, and/or tradition there will be times when we will make mistakes, break trust, and hurt those with whom we desire closeness. It doesn’t feel good to acknowledge we’ve made a mistake and hurt someone (even ourselves). Neither does it feel good to humble ourselves and ask for forgiveness. Consider, however, how great it feels to know that you love and are loved in a way that allows you to move beyond the mistakes, beyond the betrayals, and move towards healing.

“I cannot argue with their concern that this world has a lot of problems. I cannot argue with the reality that children born into this world will face significant challenges, many of which I cannot even imagine. But our Jewish tradition doesn’t give us the option of deciding that we should end this world because it is just too messed up. Our Jewish tradition simply, incessantly, commands us to better it…..

Of course, I could have simply begun this sermon with the terms that are listed in this morning’s Torah reading. Torah teaches this clearly. Its first verse that insists that everyone be included in the covenant even those with no voice and then it concludes by teaching us that choosing to act in accordance with God’s sense of justice and good will is the choice that leads to life. Because we are not truly alive when we act as if there is no hope for our world. Because we are not truly alive when others are limited in their ways of living. Because we are not truly alive when suffering occurs that our very own hands could have prevented. Because we are not truly alive when our hands do not act as though they were linked with the hand of God in partnership and we repair the world together.”

– quoted from an untitled 5765 (2004) Yom Kippur sermon by Rabbi Julie Schwartz (Temple Emanu-El, Georgia)

The 75-minute Monday night Common Ground Meditation Center practice is provided in the spirit of generosity (dana), freely given and freely received. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.

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There is no playlist for the Common Ground practices.

[Stay tuned for Tuesday’s post and playlist!]

### I’m YOURS ###

It’s Time to…. September 27, 2020

(“Shana Tovah U’Metukah!” to anyone who is observing the High Holidays.)

“So I draw courage and stand face-to-face with my limitations, without shrinking or running. I allow for honest remorse. Here is my place of Now….

Of course, acceptance does not mean becoming complacent. I still need to honestly evaluate my life and reflect on how I want to act differently this coming year. It also doesn’t preclude trying my best.

But at this very moment my state of ‘now’ is my truth.”

– quoted from an article entitled “Perfectly Imperfect: The Secret of the Shofar” (09/12/2020) by Rabbi Binyomin Weisz

Every year we go on a journey. We spiral up – we fly (w)right – and we spiral down. We have times when we need to say, “I’m sorry” or “You’re forgiven” – which are really just ways to say, “I love you.” (But, to be fair, we also have times when we are not ready for any of that.)

We have inspirational times, like the High Holidays are in the Jewish tradition, when people are getting ready for “good” (as in meaningful) days, better days. And, when those times come, I often wonder how long it’s going to take for people to really come clean. I wonder why it takes us so long to recognize the power in remembering and reflecting, starting small, and rooting down to grow up. I consider all the different possibilities that can lead us to a new beginning and a “sweet new year.”

Each part of the journey is a story-within-a-story (within-a-story). That’s the way our lives work. We are all, each of us, the hero in our own story as well as the antagonist and/or supporting character and/or “magical guide” and/or benevolent goddess and/or “father” figure in someone else’s story. Paying attention to the stories is another way to pay attention to your life.

Yoga Sūtra 2.39: aparigrahasthairye janmakathantāasambodhah

– “A person firmly established in the non-possessiveness gains complete understanding of the “why-ness” (or essence of why) of birth.”

Like everyone else, I have my favorite stories for each season; but, I don’t get the chance to tell every story every year. (That’s why some of the highlighted words above are not yet linked to a post.) There is, however, a story I make sure to tell every year, right at the end of the High Holidays. It’s a Charlie Harary story with a timeless message. It’s a message, coincidentally, that would have worked really well with yesterday’s yoga sūtra because it is, absolutely, a story about non-attachment. (And also gold.) But I didn’t tell the story yesterday – I saved it for today.

Some people may believe that I save today’s story for the one of the final days of the high holidays because it is sometimes an intense physical practice. But, in reality, there is a bit of symbolism that plays out in the story and in the timing of the story. You see, even though I don’t talk about the significance of the Rosh Hashanah, the Ten Days of Awe / Ten Days of Atonement, and Yom Kippur until people are observing them; many people within the Jewish community start planning and observing (a time of contemplation and preparation) forty days before Yom Kippur. They listen for the call of the shofar; recite Psalm 27 twice a day; and some communities even begin a tradition of communal prayers for forgiveness (Selichot). For others, observation begins with Rosh Hashanah and the Ten Days of Repentance – even though, if they plan to go home and/or attend services, they have to make arrangements beforehand. Finally, there are people who may only fast and attend services on Yom Kippur.

There is merit to each person’s timetable. And I see this kind of timetable in other communities – including in the yoga community. I am especially aware of how it is playing out right now, as some people are transitioning back into studios and gyms, some people are holding steady to their online or individual practices, and still others are waiting….

“Had I not believed in seeing the good of the Lord in the land of the living!

Hope for the Lord, be strong and He will give your heart courage, and hope for the Lord.”

– Tehillim – Psalms (27:13-14)

There is merit to each person’s timetable. However, we ultimately come back to the question of what purpose does the practice (or observation) serve and – if it serves a meaningful purpose – why are we waiting? If we want more meaning, more purpose, more insight, and more gratitude/happiness in our lives, we have to get ready for it.

True, life can be like a standardized test – some people don’t seem to need as much preparation as others. But, the ultimate truth (in that) is that some people spend their whole lives preparing, getting ready, for more life. You will find that, as occurs in the stories from yesterday and today, if our focus is on getting that the glittery, shiny stuff, that we think enables us to live the way we want to live and be the people we want to be, we may never achieve our ultimate goal. Sometimes all the preparation keeps us from living our best lives and being our best version of our self – because all of our focus and energy is going towards the means (not the end). Furthermore, we can let the idea of everything being “perfect” hold us back.

On the flip side, some people actually live a life full of meaning, purpose, insight, and gratitude/insight because that is their ultimate purpose. They are not getting ready to get something glittery and shiny with a lot of value; they recognize that they already have it. Our lives and the lives of those around us are of the highest value. (I wonder how long it will it take for us to recognize that.)

“And the real goal of Yom Kippur is to spend one day just being you – but the real you… that soul, that you.”

 – quoted from “Yom Kippur: Time to Come Home” by Charlie Harary

Please join me for a 65-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Sunday, September 20^th) at 2:30 PM. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. PLEASE NOTE: Zoom 5.0 is in effect. If you have not upgraded, you will need to give yourself extra time to log into Zoom. You can always request an audio recording of this practice (or any practice) via email or a comment below.

Today’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.

(The YouTube playlist includes the video of Charlie Harary’s “Drop Your Bags.”)

A variation on a theme, a different Charlie Harary story about Yom Kippur and “Coming Home”

### GET HERE NOW / BE HERE NOW ###

How Long is Not Long? (or, Why Is It Taking So Long?) September 26, 2020

(“Shana Tovah U’Metukah!” to anyone who is observing the High Holidays.)

“But the truth is: ‘All sounds are kosher’ – not only for the shofar, but for the heart as well.”

– quoted from an article entitled “Perfectly Imperfect: The Secret of the Shofar” (09/12/2020) by Rabbi Binyomin Weisz

If you’ve taken a class from me this last week (live or via a recording) you’ve heard me mention the fact that a shofar can still be considered kosher even if it has a hole in it. A shofar is a ram’s horn that is blown (like a trumpet) to during most Rosh Hashanah services and at the end of Yom Kippur. Historically it has also been used at other times, including as a call-to-arms before a battle. During the High Holidays, there are four types of sounds (tekiah = a long, smooth blast, shevarim = three short bursts, terua, = a series of short bursts, and tekiah gedolah = a long, drawn out, smooth blast), which are produced in very specific patterns in order to remind people to turn inward and reflect, remember, repent, and hope. As with most spiritual rituals, the horn has to be produced in a certain way and blown by a specific person. However, the mitzvah (or “commandment”) related to the High Holidays is not related to the blowing – it’s a commandment to hearing the sound. Obviously, since it is an organic instrument, each shofar sounds slightly different, but what is super fascinating to me (and others) is that certain imperfections do not “ruin” the instrument.

As teachers and scholars like Rabbi Binyomin Weisz point out, a hole can change the sound of the shofar and it’s still kosher. Granted, there are some ways a shofar can be broken – and even fixed – that make it no longer kosher. To be honest, the fact that you could “fix” a broken shofar so that it sounds like it originally sounded, but in doing so make it unusable for its intended purpose – and, therefore, not good – just strengthens the lesson for me. Given that so many people are struggling with “imposter syndrome” and high expectations, here’s the four part lesson: (1) let go of expectations; (2) do what you do; (3) appreciate what you’re doing, because it has value/meaning, and (4) remember the value/meaning of you (being who you are and doing what you do).

“No man can be a good bishop if he loves his title but not his task.”

– quoted from City of God by Saint Augustine (Bishop of Hippo)

“Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.”

– quoted from “Anthem” by Leonard Cohen

So there’s this story. It’s an old story and you’ve probably heard it before. I am actually surprised that I was well into my adulthood before I heard it, but not surprised that the first time I heard the story it was in the context of Rosh Hashanah. It’s one of my favorite stories to tell and, this year, I will tell it something like this:

Like so many of us, there’s this person sitting or standing on the edge of a mountain of uncertainty. This year, for obvious reasons, feels different from other years. What feels the same for this person, however, is the frustration and fear that comes from looking back and realizing that they have the same doubts and fears, hopes and dreams that they had this time last year. Rather than feeling like they’ve taken steps forward, closer to their dreams, this person feels like they have stayed in the exact same place – or even that they have taken a few steps back. Everything seems meaningless and pointless and, frankly, they feel they have nothing to show for all the times when they’ve reflected, remembered, repented, and planned.

So, as the head of the year approaches, this person goes to their rabbi and explains that they’re having a hard time. Yes, they understand that everyone is having and hard time – doesn’t make it easier. And, yes, they understand that some folks have it harder – doesn’t make them feel better. Bottom line, they aren’t motivated to make a plan for a new year when they feel they have nothing to show for the old.

The rabbi listens, as rabbis do, and then asks the person: How long does it take for a giant bamboo tree to grow as tall as a building?

Of course, this person doesn’t know (and is a little annoyed that their rabbi chooses this time to ask what appears to be a rhetorical – or liturgical – question). So, the rabbi tells the story of a farmer who decides they want to grow a giant bamboo tree. It’s a good investment, because if the farmer can get a good clump of culms, they can sell the edible shoots and also sell some of the sheath for construction and weaving. The farmer does some research, figures out the best place to plant, obtains some rhizome with their roots intact, and plants the cutting in a hole that is large enough to hold the rhizome and the roots (but not any deeper than the root-ball).

Satisfied with their work, the farmer goes about their business, watering and fertilizing the newly planted areas as needed. They do this for a year…. And then a second year…. By the third year, some of the farmer’s neighbors are starting to crack jokes about the farmer and their empty plot of land. Because no one sees anything happening – except the farmer diligently watering and fertilizing the area for yet another year. Finally, in the fifth year, a new growth appears. Then, within six weeks, that fertile green sprout shoots up as tall as a building.

“So,” the rabbi asks the person in their office, “how long does it take a giant bamboo to grow as tall as a building?”

The person who came seeking advice frustratingly says, “Six weeks.”

“No,” the rabbi patiently explains, “it takes five years….. Growth takes patience and perseverance. Every drop of water makes a difference; every step you take makes an impact. You may not see the change right away, but growth is happening.”

Yoga Sūtra 2.39: aparigrahasthairye janmakathantāasambodhah

– “A person firmly established in the non-possessiveness gains complete understanding of the “why-ness” (or essence of why) of birth.”

Classical study of this week’s sūtra focuses on the cause and effect related to reincarnation; but I like to start with the cause and effect of right here and right now. In this moment, we can see how past attachments led to suffering and how our current attachments will lead to suffering (all in this lifetime). Unless, of course, we are (still) so attached, that we cannot take a step back and gain perspective. Like the farmer’s neighbors, the person in the rabbi’s office didn’t have big picture perspective. And big picture perspective and clarity are exactly what Patanjali promises in the sūtra. Perspective and clarity provide the “essence of why.” Once we understand the “why-ness” of something, there are no more questions… only answers.

Consider that when we are attached to a certain outcome, we put all our energy into ensuring (to the best of our ability) that things will happen a certain way. In doing so, we can lose sight of the fact that there are other ways. We may have definite ideas about how people should behave and (as my dharma buddy Stacy points out) we become absolutely convinced that things will work out if people “just do things our way.” We can get so focused on – i.e., so attached to – things happening a certain way that we actually create blind spots.

We sometimes fail to see all the possibilities within a situation (which sometimes means we miss opportunities) and we sometimes neglect to anticipate where things will “go wrong.” We miss the fact that other people have an “our way” that they also think is the best way. We can become so attached to things happening a certain way that we decide the end justifies the means and we are willing to veer away from our moral compass. We may even break vows – and then we are really upset when things still don’t work out they way we desired, because we actually compromised our values for nothing! Sometimes, we will concede, things work out for the best. Sometimes, we will concede, things turn out better than we planned. Along the way, however, there is an extra level of suffering because we couldn’t let go of our expectations.

“Greed is not a defect in the gold that is desired but in the man who loves it perversely by falling from justice which he ought to esteem as incomparably superior to gold; nor is lust a defect in bodies which are beautiful and pleasing: it is a sin in the soul of the one who loves corporal pleasures perversely, that is, by abandoning that temperance which joins us in spiritual and unblemishable union with realities far more beautiful and pleasing; nor is boastfulness a blemish in words of praise: it is a failing in the soul of one who is so perversely in love with other peoples’ applause that he despises the voice of his own conscience; nor is pride a vice in the one who delegates power, still less a flaw in the power itself: it is a passion in the soul of the one who loves his own power so perversely as to condemn the authority of one who is still more powerful.”

– quoted from City of God by Saint Augustine (Bishop of Hippo)

Many of the commentaries focus on the idea of desire, in this context, as being so intense it is described as greed – which is often defined as a deadly sin. Greed is motivated by external factors. Yes, we may feel some deep internal compulsion to acquire certain things (or people), but ultimately that compulsion is fed by the belief that either the thing (or person or position) has intrinsic value and/or that we will be more valued/valuable because of our material possession(s). That belief in the value of the material thing is an external belief and it is steeped in avidyā (“ignorance”). Taking a look at our thoughts, words, and deeds as being the result of afflicted/dysfunctional thought patterns puts things in a context that is hard to ignore. It is especially hard to ignore when we see that, yes, suffering comes from these greed-inspired thoughts, words, and deeds. We also see how things unfold because we are motivated by the desire to have.

What happens if, as Patanjali instructs, we cultivate the opposites? What happens if we let go of our desires? What happens if we let go of expectations?

Remember, the cultivation of opposites does not mean that you don’t do your best and go all in on whatever you’re doing. Quite the opposite: Remember, when it comes to “Contemplating the Goal,” The Bhagavad Gita says, “‘The karma-yogi offers all works and all desires for the fruits of works to the Divine – and thus wins eternal peace in the Divine. But the person impelled by selfish desire gets entangled in agitations and anxieties of the mind.” (5.12)

“‘To work without desire may seem impossible, but the way to do it is to substitute thoughts of Divinity for thoughts of desire. Do your work in this world with your heart fixed on the Divine instead of on outcomes. Do not worry about results. Be even tempered in success or failure. This mental evenness is what is mean by yoga…. Indeed, equanimity is yoga!’” (2.48)

– quoted from The Bhagavad Gita: A Walkthrough for Westerners by Jack Hawley

Just before I started reading (and in some cases re-reading) the commentary for this week’s yoga sūtra, I decided to watch Rabbi Marc Katz’s sermon from last week. The sermon was titled “Finding Our Resiliency” and, serendipitously, contained a very familiar piece of advice. It is advice that is also part of this week’s commentary and takes us back to Yoga Sūtra 1.37, which explains that we can cultivate a peaceful mind by “focusing on someone who is free from all desires.” There are definitely historical, spiritual, and literary examples, but don’t forget that one way to contemplate/meditate is to focus on yourself as if you were free from all desire.

Think about how easy it is to look at someone else’s situation and give them advice. We can do that because, even though we may care deeply for the person, we are not emotionally, mentally, and spiritually invested in things going a specific way. We are only invested in things working out for the best for them. Take a moment, as we enter the last few days of the Ten Days of Atonement, Ten Days of Awe, to look at your life and the possibilities ahead as if you were a friend (or a rabbi) you had called for advice, clarity, and perspective.

I know, I know, for some of you this seems super hokey. But, I encourage you, stop for a moment; to take the deepest breath you’ve taken all day, sigh it out (three times or more); and just breathe. Give yourself at least 5 minutes of sitting and breathing (or moving and breathing) without thinking about anything except how it feels to breathe deeply in and breathe deeply out. Then, spend a few minutes considering what you would say to someone in your current situation. What would you say to someone who was not you? Don’t factor in anyone else’s opinions. Just for a moment, listen to the wisdom of your own heart.

“So how do we tap that inner strength? How do we find that spark of resilience buried deep within us? First, know that you’ve been here before. True, no one has faced the exact challenge of our current era. Every moment is unique. But each of us has overcome some challenge in our past…. Each one of us has a proven history of mourning deaths, finding new relationships, reconciling broken friendships. Every one of us knows how to heal, to mend, to salve our broken hearts….

Work to forgive yourself when you fail to meet your own expectations, but don’t give up on yourself entirely.”

– quoted from “Finding Our Resiliency,” an Erev Rosh Hashanah sermon by Rabbi Marc Katz

Please join me for a 90-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Saturday, September 26^th) at 12:00 PM. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. Give yourself extra time to log in if you have not upgraded to Zoom 5.0.

Today’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.

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.

Les Brown’s take on the bamboo story

“Family. Duty. The things that keep us grounded, what keep us from giving up on our hopes, but also holds us back from stepping across the precipice into the unknown.”

– quoted from the liner notes for “The Things That Keep Us Here” (from Monomyth) by Scott Buckley

“Unearthing knowledge of what truly lies in the unknown is breathtaking, but also terrifying – a realization of what must be done.”

– quoted from the liner notes for “The Vision” (from Monomyth) by Scott Buckley

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The S-word September 23, 2020

(“Shana Tovah U’Metukah!” to anyone who is observing the High Holidays.)

“Why can’t we talk it over?
Oh it seems to me
That sorry seems to be the hardest word”

– quoted from “Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word” by Elton John and Bernie Taupin

For years, I avoided saying the words, “I’m sorry.” It wasn’t that I never made a mistake or didn’t feel remorse about something I had said or done or even thought. Instead, I very deliberately, very intentionally, practiced expressing my remorse with other words. Because, despite the song and the old saying, “sorry” is a word I think it is far too easy for people to say.

We say we’re sorry when we accidentally bump into someone while walking or when we both reach for the same prop in a yoga class. We say “sorry” when we hit the wrong button on the elevator and the door closes on someone who was trying to catch it or when we don’t hold the door open for someone who has their hands full. We say “sorry” when we didn’t hear or understand something someone says and we say we’re sorry when we don’t want to do something that it’s clearly not right for us to do. We use the same word for the little inconsequential stuff as for the really big stuff and we do this despite the fact that we have so many other words; words that in some cases are much more appropriate for a situation. (Say hello, “excuse me” and “pardon me.”)

Earlier in the New Year (that started this past Friday at sunset), I mentioned that words are one of our super powers – and by that I mean they are one of the siddhis (or “powers”) unique to being human according to Indian philosophy. In fact, the process of asking and/or offering forgiveness is something that utilizes all six (6) of the powers unique to being human.

First, there is uha (“knowledge without doubt, clear understanding, intuitive knowledge”). In a dhamma talk entitled “The Ancient Heart of Forgiveness,” Buddhist teacher Jack Kornfield refers to the act of forgiveness as a “a deep process of the heart, which requires a person to process and honor ”the betrayal of yourself or others, the grief, the anger, the hurt, the fear.” I’ll add to that the need to process and honor the love, expectation, and disappointment that are usually involved in the situation. In order to reach the point where we can truly ask and/or offer forgiveness we have to understand the situation and the underlying emotions. The absolute worst “apologies” ever – and I put that in quotes, because they really aren’t apologies – are conditional and redirect action towards those who have been harmed. For instance, when people say something like, “I’m sorry if you were offended, but…” and/or “I apologize to anyone I may have offended,” they aren’t actually apologizing. The act of asking for and/or offering forgiveness is similar to the act of expressing gratitude: the more specific one can be, the more genuine the act – and this requires truly understanding the situation.

The second “power unique to being human” is shabda (“word”) and it is our ability to not only form a sound, but also to assign meaning that sound; depict that sound and meaning visually; to remember the sound, meaning, and visual depiction and to convey that meaning to others. I think it is obvious how this power comes into play when we are talking about forgiveness and repentance. However, for the record, let me reiterate that the words we use matter because of how we use them! (Also, this is one of those powers where one could say that this is a power other beings in the animal kingdom share with being human. And while this is true, humans have the ability to deliberately and intentionally hone this ability. Consider, also, the power of the written word. A handwritten apology is akin to a love letter.)

Adhyayana is the ability to “study, analyze, and comprehend” and it is directly tied to the first “power unique to being human.” This analytical ability not only allows us to turn inward and gain an understanding of our own intentions (as well as the intentions of others), it also means we can dig deep inside of ourselves and gain a clear understanding of what we are feeling. We can’t always understand how other people are feeling, but we can take a moment to cultivate empathy by considering how we would feel if the shoe were on the other foot. This third power also gives us the ability to understand why one person’s actions, words, and thoughts can hurt us in a way it is hard to get past, while another person’s actions, words, and thoughts feel inconsequential. Finally, it gives us the ability to predict the cause and effect of our thoughts, words, and deeds – which means we have the capacity to not hurt someone and/or to stop making the same mistake over and over again.

“It’s a deep work of the heart that purifies and releases – and somehow permits us to love and be free.”

– quoted from a dhamma talk entitled “The Ancient Heart of Forgiveness” by Jack Kornfield

The fourth “power unique to being human” is dukha-vighata-traya, which means we are born with the ability to eliminate three-fold sorrow (“physical-mental-spiritual suffering”) because we have the ability to understand the cause and the cure of what ails us. Forgiveness and repentance are powerful healing agents. They are a balm to the soul. Letting go of what no longer serves us (or only serves in dividing us) can feel like a cool breeze on a summer day. It’s a clean slate and is like hitting the reset button on a relationship.  Remember, as teachers like Jack Kornfield point out, forgiveness is for you: “It’s not for anyone else.”

The final two powers are suhrit-prapti (which is “cultivating a good heart; finding friends”) and dana (“generosity, the ability to give”). I put these two together not because they are less than the others, but because they – along with the fourth – can defy logic. They are, in every tradition, heart practices. The ability to cultivate friendship and emotionally invest in others carries with it the risk of being hurt. There is a reason why the word “passion,” which comes to us from Latin, by way of Old French and Middle English is more closely associated with love (and strong emotions) than with its original meaning “to suffer.” The ability to cultivate a good heart means that we open up to the wisdom that is part of the heart (according to Eastern philosophies) and also that we are capable of thinking beyond our own needs and desires. This last part – the ability to consider the needs and desires of others – is directly tied to our ability to give others what the need, including what is legally ours. We can spend all day considering what material possessions we have that could benefit others, but let us not forget the priceless value of what is in our own hearts. We are the only one who can offer our forgiveness.

“To err is human, to forgive, divine.”

– quoted from “An Essay on Criticism” (line 525) by Alexander Pope

Teshuvah (or Tchuvah), the Hebrew word for “repentance, return, turn,” is a big part of the High Holidays. On Yom Kippur, The Day of Atonement, there is even an absolution of vows (every vow). But remember, this is not about self flagellation (or even, really, about condemnation). In offering forgiveness to ourselves and others we are not required to forget or condone bad behavior. Neither are we required to stay in a bad situation. The practice does not require us to be perfect. The practice does, however, does require us to open our hearts to the possibility of a new beginning.

Please join me today (Wednesday, September 23^rd) at 4:30 PM or 7:15 PM for a yoga practice on Zoom. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You will need to register for the 7:15 PM class if you have not already done so. Give yourself extra time to log in if you have not upgraded to Zoom 5.0. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below.

Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.

The last song / A final word…

### BE DIVINE (WE YOU CAN) ###

On Having A Good Time September 22, 2020

(“Shana Tovah U’Metukah!” to anyone who is observing the High Holidays.)

“[Forgiveness] is a deep process of the heart and in the process you need to honor the betrayal of yourself or others, the grief, the anger, the hurt, the fear – and it can take a long time.”

– quoted from a dhamma talk entitled “The Ancient Heart of Forgiveness” by Jack Kornfield

So, let’s talk about time for a minute… I mean, a moment. I’ve been considering time and asking that age old question (How Could I Spend  My Time?) because of the High Holidays, which started with Rosh Hashanah, “the the Head of the Year” or Jewish New Year, at sunset this past Friday. But, I’m also thinking about time today because it is the Autumnal Equinox here in the Northern Hemisphere. In theory, the angle of the Earth combines with its rotation around the sun to produce four noteworthy (and marked) dates: Autumnal Equinox, Winter Solstice, Vernal (or Spring) Equinox, and Summer Solstice.

I say, “in theory,” because we like to think that today everyone around the world has equal amounts of day and night and that these appreciable moments in time are actually that – appreciable and notable. The truth, however, is that there is no sudden/automatic change in how much light and how much darkness we get. It’s not a dimmer switch and we can honestly notice changes much earlier than indicated by the celestial calendar. Furthermore, no one is really getting 12 hours of daylight and 12 hours of night on the actual equinox. We perceive daylight long after the sun has moved below the horizon and, therefore, daytime is longer at latitudes above the equator than below. Here in Houston, I’ll get 12 hours and 8 minutes (as will people in Cairo, Egypt and Shanghai, China). On the flip side, someone in Anchorage, Alaska will get 12 hours and 16 minutes (as will people in Helsinki, Finland). Even at the equator, a true 12-hour split doesn’t happen on the equinox: It happens on the equilux (“equal light”), which this year falls on Wednesday, September 23^rd.

OK, so, having established that we all have a certain amount of time today – and that we like to think that we all have the same amount of time today – take a moment to consider that to be productive we have to spend some of that time eating/drinking, sleeping, and pooping. That’s just life, and there’s no getting around it. We can, however, factor in how we can eat/drink, sleep, and (yes) poop in way that keeps us productive. This doesn’t mean rushing through meals, sleeping as little as possible, and avoiding bathroom breaks. In fact, it may mean quite the opposite. As you take a moment to turn inward and consider what works best for you, you have to consider all of your rhythms.

“Dearest friend,
Dearest in truth, because I find it touching that you should so thoroughly go into my condition at a time when you are either very busy or not well or possibly both.”

 – letter from Sigmund Freud to Wilhlem Fleiss dated May 21, 1894

Most people have heard the term “biorhythm,” which is a theory presented by Wilhelm Fliess in the later 19^th century. Fliess, a close personal friend of Dr. Sigmund Freud, was an otolaryngologist who believed that people’s lives are broken down into (on average) a 23-day physical cycle, a 28-day emotional cycle, and a 33-day intellectual cycle. According to this theory, everyone (regardless of sex or gender) have peak days and low days and we could use these patterns to determine how we spend our time throughout the month and year. Many Western scientists think of Fliess’s ideas as pseudoscience (except, ironically, when it comes to women – and then it’s referred to as infradian rhythms).

On the flip side, Western science recognizes circadian rhythms and ultradian rhythms. Circadian rhythms are natural, internal processes that regulate things like sleep, and repeat with the rotation of the Earth (so roughly every 24 hours). Ultradian rhythms are cycles that repeat throughout a 24-hour day, like the need to eat. (Although, “ultradian” is also used in sleep research to define the various stages of sleep one cycles through when getting a good night sleep. All of that is to say that our bodies and minds operate in such a way that there are times when we are energized and there are times when we are exhausted. Even if we don’t feel particularly tired – or feel like we should feel tired – the bottom line is that there are times when we will have a lot of willpower, energy, and determination to get things done and other times when we won’t have the energy or inclination to be quote-unquote productive.

“Every time you focus your attention you use a measurable amount of glucose and other metabolic resources. Studies show that each task you do tends to make you less effective at the next task, and this is especially true for high-energy tasks like self control and decision making. So distractions really take their toll.”

– quoted from Your Brain at Work by David Rock

In the Old Testament times, something was “good” when it had meaning and served its purpose. As I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, Leo Tolstoy is very clear in his short story, “The Three Questions,” about what is most important (i.e., what is most meaningful). So, when we consider that we don’t have an unlimited amount of time, energy, and will/determination, how do we focus that time, energy, and will/determination? How do we channel it so that it actually strengthens our will/determination, enhances our energy, and makes us feel like we have more time? How do we have a “good” time – and by that I mean meaningful.

Please join me today (Tuesday, September 22^nd) at 12 Noon or 7:15 PM for a virtual yoga practice on Zoom, where we will do what we do. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. Give yourself extra time to log in if you have not upgraded to Zoom 5.0. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below.

Tuesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.

### MAZEL TOV ###

Start (Now) As You Mean To Go On September 21, 2020

(“Shana Tovah U’Metukah!” to anyone who is observing the High Holidays.)

“‘There is no difference between Time and any of the three dimensions of Space except that our consciousness moves along it.’”

– quoted from The Time Machine by H. G. Wells, born today in 1866

If you only live your life according to the Gregorian calendar, which is a solar-based calendar, it may be strange and confusing to hear people wishing each other a happy new year at the end of January, the beginning of February, towards the end of March, or at the beginning of fall. We forget that the way we manage and identify time is partially constructed. It’s a matter of perspective, and people’s perspectives can be different. So, right now, all over the world people are wishing each other a happy new year and planning how they want to live their lives if they are blessed with a new year.

“Either get busy living or get busy dying.”

– quoted from the film the novella “Rita Hawyworth and Shawshank Redemption: Hope Springs Eternal” by Stephen King, born today in 1947

“Act the way you’d like to be and soon you’ll be the way you act.”

– Leonard Cohen, born today in 1934

Friday at sunset was the beginning of Rosh Hashanah, “the the Head of the Year,” which is also the beginning of the High Holidays in Judaism. The “Ten Days of Awe” or “Ten Days of Atonement,” which culminate with Yom Kippur, “The Day of Atonement, are observed through reflection, remembrance, and repentance. And, as I mentioned yesterday, they are days where people let go of what no longer serves them and plan for the year ahead. That letting go and planning revolve around the concept of Teshuvah (or Tchuvah), the Hebrew word for “repentance” or “return” – and therefore around the practice of forgiveness.

Forgiveness can be a tricky thing because, as the Buddhist teacher Jack Kornfield points out, it requires us to process and honor feelings of betrayal, grief, anger, hurt, fear. It also requires us to process and honor that we have those hard feelings, in part, because we also feel love and expectation. Kornfield speaks of it as a “deep process of the heart” and I think it is also, very much related, to those siddhis (or powers) “unique to being human.” In fact, it’s related to all six: the power of knowledge without doubt; the power words; the power to “study, analyze, and comprehend;” the power to eliminate threefold sorrow; the power to cultivate friendships; and the power of generosity. Of course, we need to tuck into our own hearts and use those power, and that requires going through the pain we are currently experiencing in order to discern the movements of the heart.

“Sometimes, you have to step outside of the person you’ve been and remember the person you were meant to be. The person you want to be. The person you are.”

– H. G. Wells, born today in 1866

“Don’t let the sun go down without saying thank you to someone, and without admitting to yourself that absolutely no one gets this far alone.”

“Don’t live in this place.”

– quoted from the 2005 University of Maine Commencement Speech by Stephen King, born today in 1947

Please join me on the virtual mat today (Monday, September 21^st) at 5:30 PM for a 75-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom.

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.

If you are able to support the center and its teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” my other practices, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible, class purchases are not necessarily.)

There is no playlist for the Common Ground practices.

“Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.”

– quoted from “Anthem” by Leonard Cohen, born today in 1934

### PLEASE FORGIVE ###

On Being Curious September 16, 2020

Yoga Sūtra 1.2: yogaścittavŗttinirodhah

– “Yoga (‘union’) is the mastery of the fluctuations of the mind.”

Yoga Sūtra 1.3: tadā draştuh svarūpe’vasthānam

 – “[When the fluctuations of the mind are mastered] the Seer abides/rests in their own true nature.”

Take a seat, get comfortable, and do that 90-second thing. Or, sit for 5, 15, 20, or 30 moments. Watch your breath and get curious. Bring awareness to your awareness, notice what you notice. There is so much, after all, to notice. We can smell things and taste things; we can feel different textures and sensations on our skin (and even on the inside of our body); we can see and hear – even with our eyes closed; and every sensation, every bit of information has the possibility of conjuring up a thought or memory that brings more sensation, more information. Yes, it’s true that the more you sit – even for short periods of time – the more there is the possibility that your mind will stop bouncing around like wild horses, elephants, little puppies, or curious monkeys. The stillness and quite you can cultivate in your mind, the more there is the possibility of insight, of seeing things in a special way – and seeing what is constant.

“After the day is gone we shall go out, breathe deeply, and look up – and there the stars will be, unchanged, unchangeable.”

– quoted from The Stars: A New Way to See Them by H. A. Rey

However, there’s also the possibility that the mind will keep bopping around looking for something on which it can focus and then – like a dog who’s spotted a squirrel – rushing off in another direction. In fact, the longer we practice the more we understand that our mind, just like a little puppy or a curious monkey, is designed to explore and play. Furthermore, the more we practice, the more we understand the merit of playing and exploring our mind.

“Now run along and play, but don’t get into trouble.’ George promised to be good. But it is easy for little monkeys to forget.”

– from Curious George by Margaret and H. A. Rey

Hans Augusto Reyersbach, better known as H. A. Rey, was the author of The Stars: A New Way to See Them and the co-author of children’s books featuring Curious George and The Man in the Yellow Hat. Born today in 1898 he and his wife Margaret (born Margarete Elisabeth Waldstein, May 16, 1906) were German Jews who originally met in their hometown of Hamburg but would both end up in Brazil and reconnect in Rio de Janeiro. It was in Brazil that H. A. changed his last name to Rey and Margarete changed her first name to Margaret. They married in Brazil and took a honeymoon cruise to Europe before settling in Paris, France. During the cruise, their pet marmoset monkeys died – and perhaps these pets were the beginning of the idea that became George, because when they settled in France they began creating the drawings and stories that would become “Curious George and Friends.

George, however, did not start off as “George.” Like the Reys, he went through a series of name changes, starting with “Fifi” and “Zozo.”  He also has different names in different translations, including (but not limited to) Jordi (in Catalan), Peter Pedal (in Danish), Coco (in German), Golgol in Galacian), and Nicke Nyfiken (in Swedish). I am particular fond of “Peter Pedal,” because it makes me think of how Curious George, and his creators, escaped the Nazis. A back story that is as much of an adventure as the stories themselves.

“It seems ridiculous to be thinking about children’s books. [But] life goes on, the editors edit, the artists draw, even during wartime.”

– H. A. Rey

Margaret, who H. A. originally remembered as the kid sister who slid down banisters, ended up in Brazil specifically because she was escaping the Nazi’s rise of power in Germany. In 1939, the now married Reyes wrote and illustrated a book called Rafi and the 9 Monkeys. From the beginning it was an equal collaboration, but only H. A.’s name appeared on the original publications. (On a side note, Rafi would become “Raffi” when the book was published in the United Kingdom and “Cecily” when it was published in the United States.) Rafi was a giraffe whose friends and family had been captured and placed in a zoo. She makes friends with a family of monkeys. The most prominent of the nine monkeys would become “George” and by the time the war broke out, the Reys had been contracted to publish a book featuring the gregarious monkey. They were working on other books as well; however, in June of 1940 the couple decided to put everything on hold and flee from the Nazi invasion. H. A. built two bicycles and, taking little more than the drawings and manuscript for “Fifi,” they headed south. Their four-month journey eventually landed them in New York City, where the first Curious George book was published (in 1941).

One of the things that aided their escape was the fact that they were officially Brazilian citizens. Another thing that helped them was “Fifi.” At one point in their escape, an official suspected them of beings German spies (because they were Jewish people with German accents and Brazilian visas), but let them go when he searched their belongings and found nothing more than a children’s story.

“George can do what kids can’t do. He can paint a room from the inside. He can hang from a kite in the sky. He can let the animals out of their pens on the farm. He can do all these naughty things that kids would like to do.”

– Margaret Rey

“Curious George does exactly what he’s supposed to do for his age and development (and species)!  By nature and by name, he is curious.  He explores his world fully and completely.  This is his job as a young, continually developing little person, er, monkey.  This is why my kids love the show–they relate so well to George’s genuinely curious nature and all of the honest (and funny) mistakes that ensue.  But what I find most refreshing about “Curious George” is The Man in the Yellow Hat.

The Man in the Yellow Hat never punishes George for his mistakes.  He is more concerned with solving the problem.  The man helps George put things away, fix things that broke, apologize to people who were involved in any indiscretions, and generally restore order.”

 – quoted from “Why I Like Curious George” posted on the blog Parenting From Scratch by Kelly Bartlett

We can learn a lot from Curious George – on and off the mat – but first we have to give our minds something with which it can play. Please join me today (Wednesday, September 16^th) at 4:30 PM or 7:15 PM for a simultaneously playful and meditative yoga practice on Zoom. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You will need to register for the 7:15 PM class if you have not already done so. Give yourself extra time to log in if you have not upgraded to Zoom 5.0. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.

Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. (This is the playlist entitled “07112020 An Introduction.”)

“The object of meditation is to still the mind, and the fastest way to do that is to move your body.”

– Gabrielle Roth

### BE CURIOUS ###

The Other Plan B September 13, 2020

“David said to Saul, “Let no one lose heart….”

– quoted from 1 Samuel – The Old Testament (17:32 NIV)

Every once in a while it happens. I start off the day, working on a plan, and something in me says, “No, not that today.” So, I go to Plan B – and sometimes I get really into it, really excited about it and something in me will say, “Naw, I don’t think so.” So, I either go back to the drawing board or… I fight it. Yes, it’s true; sometimes I don’t listen to that “still quiet voice.” Sometimes I think the big, capital I (“I” that is my ego) knows better than whatever is moving around in my heart. Sometimes, I get halfway through the day, or all the way to the end of the day, and think, “Oh, maybe that’s why I should have paid more attention and been more present.”

There are, however, times when I absolutely am open to the Spirit and open to the moment. There are times when I let go of my frustration at things not going to the way I planned and I breathe…. That’s it. I take a breath and open to the moment. Oh, I still have a plan. In fact, it’s the best of all plans, That Other Plan B: Breathe – keep breathing; be open to the present; believe and be aware of “what it is you have offer.”

Just a few days ago, I mentioned Michelangelo’s David. Today I learned that Michelangelo was not the original sculptor. In fact, when the piece was first commissioned (along with a series of other large Old Testament statues intended for the Florence Cathedral) Michelangelo wasn’t even on the short list of those being considered. (The main reason he wasn’t on the list was because he hadn’t been born yet, but that’s beside the point.)

“Every block of stone has a statue inside it and it is the task of the sculptor to discover it.”

– Michelangelo

Donatello was commissioned to sculpt a statue of David at the same time Nanni di Banco was commissioned to carve a marble statue of the prophet Isaiah. Both statues ended up abandoned in the workshop. Meanwhile, Donatello made a statue of Joshua (an assistant to Moses) in 1410 and may have been Agostino di Duccio’s mentor when the latter was commissioned to create Hercules in 1463 (an odd choice, yes, but there he is. Donatello’s Joshua and Agostino’s Hercules were terracotta – and Donatello would create a statue of Saint John the Evangelist shoretly after they were finished. However, a block of marble had been chosen from a quarry in northern Tuscany and, in 1464, Agostino went to work on a second go at David. He didn’t get far – just the shape of the legs, feet, torso, and some drapery – before Donatello’s death in 1466. A second artist was commissioned to finish the statue in 1476, but it doesn’t seem like he did much. The marble, that may or may not have even had a gap to distinguish the two legs, was left abandoned, exposed to the elements for 26 years.

So much for Plan A and B.

Of course, that hunk of “badly blocked out” marble was expensive (and represented the additional expense and effort of its acquisition). So, in 1501, the Overseers of the Office of Works of the Florence Cathedral (the Operai) started looking for a master artist – with experience – to take on what the referred to as “The Giant.”

Yes, it is kind of ironic that the unfinished statue of the biblical underdog who takes on “the Giant” was referred to by officials of the Church as “The Giant.” Perhaps it is most fitting, then, that while several artistic giants, like Leonardo da Vinci, were considered; they did not receive the commission. Instead, the commission went to the artistic equivalent of the underdog, 26-year old Michelangelo, who began his work today in 1501.

Please join me for a 65-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Sunday, September 13^th) at 2:30 PM. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. PLEASE NOTE: Zoom 5.0 is in effect. If you have not upgraded, you will need to give yourself extra time to log into Zoom. You can always request an audio recording of this practice (or any practice) via email or a comment below.

Today’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.

### DREAM ON, DREAM ON ###

The Dangers of Living In A Material World September 12, 2020

“Theft is the one unforgivable sin, the one common denominator of all sins. When you kill a man, you steal a life. You steal his wife’s right to a husband, rob his children of a father. When you tell a lie, you steal someone’s right to the truth. When you cheat, you steal the right to fairness. There is no act more wretched then stealing.”

– Amir, remembering the lessons of his father, in The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini

There are times when we have everything we need and we not only recognize that, we appreciate it. There are times we may have less than what we need and, while we may recognize that, we focus on what we have and appreciate that. There are times we have more than our fair share and, whether we understand that or not, we appreciate what we have.

Then there are all the other times.

Times when, regardless of what we have, we can’t help thinking about having more. More. More. Desire is a powerful thing. It is a charge of energy that can manifest in a billion different ways: we can have what we need, but want more; we need more than we have and be brutally crushed – even driven – by that awareness and the desire for more; we can have more than others can every imagine and yet we can imagine more. And, that energy, that compulsion, that urge drives our words and our deeds. We become greedy.

On a certain level, it doesn’t matter if the desire starts in the heart or the mind, because it can take root in either place; and, once it takes roots it blossoms into greed. And greed is the kind of blossom that spreads. So, you may be more or less content, but then I can suggest that you are missing out on something and, over time (with enough suggestions, especially at a young age), that suggestion creeps in and suddenly you are doing and saying things in order to change what you possess. That’s basically the model of capitalism, materialism, and consumerism. It is the very premise of advertising: someone convinces you that you need something you want and/or that they have the best version of what you need and/or want. (And why would anyone ever settle for less than the best.)

Notice the words. They are sneaky. Words are also wonderful: Which is one of the reasons why it’s important to pay attention to the word choice when it comes to commandments, precepts, and/or vows. Take for instance, the “Ten Commandments” as outlined in Exodus. In the Talmud (in the Jewish tradition) and the King James Version (KJV) of the Christian Old Testament there is a lot of “thou shalt” and thou shalt not” attributed to outward behavior; meaning things people are commanded to do/say or not do/say. However, there are some that are specifically related to thought.

“COVET (verb transitive)

1. To desire or wish for, with eagerness; to desire earnestly to obtain or possess; in a good sense.

COVET earnestly the best gifts. 1 Corinthians 12:31.

2. To desire inordinately; to desire that which it is unlawful to obtain or possess; in a bad sense.

Thou shalt not covet thy neighbors house, wife or servant. Exodus 20:17.

COVET (verb intransitive) To have an earnest desire. 1 Timothy 6:10.”

– quoted from Webster’s Dictionary 1828: American Dictionary of the English Language

Towards the beginning there is the commandment to “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.” Yes, it is true, there are (external) words and deeds related to this commandment; however, the commandment itself is related to the mental exercise of memory/thought. Then, at the very end, we get to the commandment(s) related to stealing and more often than not the instruction does not state, “Thou shalt not steal.” (Although Exodus 20:17 is often translated as such). Instead, the passage related to stealing (someone’s wife, slaves, animals, or anything else) is a commandment about thought.

When it comes to theft, Patanjali also directs us towards our thoughts – and reminds us that the desire for someone else’s stuff starts inside of us, with a thought or feeling for more. Similar to harming, we can be directly involved in stealing, we can motivate others to steal on our behalf, and/or we can tacitly condone stealing. The practice requires refraining from all types of stealing. As you reap what you sow, the practice comes with priceless rewards.

Yoga Sūtra 2.37: asteyapratişţhām sarvaratnopasthānam

– “When a yogi is established in non-stealing, all gems manifest.”

As he does with the other yamās, Patanjali explains that when the practice of non-stealing is deeply embedded in our hearts and minds there is an energy shift. Specifically, internalizing the practice of asteya is rewarded with the “gems” of nature. In the commentary for sūtra 2.37, Pandit Rajmani Tigunait defines these gems as “Lofty ideals, scientific discoveries, human values, uplifting thought, and the virtues of the heart – love, compassion, selfishness” as well as the bounty of nature. Consider how often we wish for material things, but also how often we look at someone else’s accomplishments and wish they were ours.

At what point does the wish become desire? At what point does the desire become greed? At the point when it may be too late to turn back, because we are so far down the road we don’t realize we are lost (or consumed).

“When desires invade our faculty of discernment – our buddhi – we become consumed by fulfilling them at any cost. Because our buddhi is compromised, we neither see nor care to see the difference between right and wrong. Ethics and morality no longer matter – we are determined to get what we want. To accomplish this, we may involve others directly in achieving what is not ours, employ others to get it for us, or give tacit consent. To some extent, this has been accepted as a standard business practice.”

– commentary on Yoga Sūtra 2.37 from The Practice of the Yoga Sūtra: Sadhana Pada by Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, PhD

Please join me for a 90-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Saturday, September 12^th) at 12:00 PM. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. Give yourself extra time to log in if you have not upgraded to Zoom 5.0.

Today’s playlist is available onYouTube and Spotify. (This is the playlist entitled “07222020 The Perfect Taco.”)

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.

Not on the playlist, but definitely comes to mind…

### PER RABBI WEINBERG, BE GRATEFUL FOR WHAT YOU HAVE ###

peDoghQo’ (Don’t be silly)! September 8, 2020

peDoghQo’! (“Don’t be silly!) Of course, I know something very special happened today in 1966. And, while it makes sense in the class, I couldn’t make it fit in today’s earlier post. So, this is for those of you who are looking for a way to spend part of your day.

### LIVE LONG & PROSPER! ###