Speaking of Rivers… and the New Year (the Tuesday post) February 1, 2022
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in "Impossible" People, Art, Books, Changing Perspectives, Faith, Healing Stories, Hope, Langston Hughes, Life, Meditation, Music, New Year, One Hoop, Peace, Philosophy, Poetry, Religion, Suffering, Taoism, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: Anne Birrell, Black History Month, Carter G. Woodson, Charles Spurgeon, Harlem Renaissance, Lunar New Year, Richard Freeman, Sam Hui, Spring Festival, Swami Jnaneshvara, Thurgood Marshall, Year of the Tiger
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“Happy (Lunar) New Year!” to those who are celebrating.
“May all of us together be protected;
may all of us together be nourished;
may we work together with great energy;
my our study together be brilliant and effective;
may we not hate or dispute with one another;
may there be peace within us, peace all around us, peace to and from everything and everyone we encounter.”
*
– “Teaching Santipat,” Sanskrit chanting by Richard Freeman (when we are in the studio)
On a certain level, there is always a question about how to begin… anything.
Just sticking to the physical practice for the moment, though: Is it best to begin in Child’s Pose, which by it’s simple physicality requires us to turn (and curl) inward? Or is it better to begin on one’s back, which promotes a certain amount of openness? Both have symbolic benefits as they relate to our lives and our practice – as does starting in a seated position on our sits-bones, which can also cultivate mindful awareness and a certain openness to wisdom. Having options, and being aware of the different benefits of the options, is a wonderful thing and I general encourage people to start where they are comfortable. However, I usually have a suggestion. After all, the beginning is an indication of how we mean to go forward.
In Chapter 17 of All of Grace, the Reverend Charles Spurgeon wrote, “Begin as you mean to go on, and go on as you began, and let the Lord be all in all to you.” Known as “the Prince of Preachers,” The Reverend Spurgeon was an English Particular Baptist, who was specifically offering advice about “The Fear of Final Falling,” or not being able to persevere on a righteous path; however, a lot of people consider his advice as applicable to all situations. Even if you are not particularly religious (or not religious at all), it would behoove you to start – anything – by connecting with the breath (which is a symbol of your life-force and your spirit) and letting that connection be your guide as you move forward.
Naturally, that is one aspect of how every physical practice of yoga begins. But, many practices also start with a chant – or you can think of it as an intention, a wish, or even a prayer or blessing. When I am leading the practice, I generally start with an English translation of the “Teaching Shantipat.” It is a very definitive declaration of how I would like to move forward. Every once in a blue moon, I use a meditation chant from Swami Jnaneshvara, that is specific to deep-seated mediation. Then too, there are times when the occasion calls for a big welcome or cheer – that sometimes comes in a different language.
“财神到 财神到
Caishen dao caishen dao [The god of wealth has come! The god of wealth has come!]
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好心得好报
Hao xinde hao bao [Good news]
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财神话 财神话
Caishenhua caishenhua [Myth of money, myth of money]
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揾钱依正路
wen qian yi zhenglu [if you follow the right path]”
*
– quoted from the song “Cai Shen Dao” [“The God of Wealth Has Come!” by Sam Hui, lyrics in Hanzi [Chinese characters], pīnyīn [“spelled sounds”], and English
Today is the beginning of the Lunar New Year. While many East and Southeast Asian cultures are celebrating at the same time – and even though there are some similarities to celebrations held at other times of the year – each culture has different rituals and traditions that connect people with their extended families, ancestors, and heritage. For example, in parts of China and the diaspora, the beginning of the New Year is also the beginning of the Spring Festival, a fifteen day celebration that culminates with the Lantern Festival. On the other hand, some Buddhist people celebrate the birth of Maitreya Buddha on the first day of the lunar new year and will New Year’s Day, as well as several days leading up to the first day, chanting, praying, and/or meditating (depending on their beliefs). People will also light candles and make offerings at the temple before their feasting begins.
According to the Chinese lunisolar calendar, this year is the year of the (water) Tiger. However, even in China (and its diaspora), where each day of the Lunar New Year has a special significance, each region has different stories and traditions related to that significance. For example, according to one Chinese creation story, different animals are celebrated depending on when they were created; thus, today is the birthday of all chickens. Others are celebrating the birthday of the water god and, therefore, will not wash their hair or their clothes on the first two days of the new year.
Even though there are some differences between regions and cultures, there are some common elements. The Lunar New Year celebrations generally include extended family coming together; the welcoming of ancestors and (in some households) the welcoming of household deities (like the water god); red clothes, red decorations, and red envelopes; fireworks, parades, and loud noises, a bit of feasting, and (of course), the wish, prayer, blessing, or shout for prosperity: “Cai Shen Dao! [The God of Wealth has come! in Mandarin]”
Since the (secular) Gregorian calendar is a solar calendar, the Lunar New Year falls at different times according to the Western schedule. This year, the beginning of the Spring Festival is also the beginning of February – which means it’s also the beginning of “special” month in the United States.
A version of the following was original posted in 2021.
“I’ve known rivers:
I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the flow of human blood in human veins.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.”
– from the poem “The Negro Speaks of Rivers” by Langston Hughes
Since 1976, February 1st has marked the beginning of Black History Month in the United States of America. I always found it curious: Why February, the shortest month of the year (even during leap years)? I sometimes wondered if the reason had anything to do with Langston Hughes, who was born today in 1901.*
Born James Mercer Langston Hughes, the poet was a prominent member of the Harlem Renaissance and the first Black American to earn a living solely from writing and public lectures. In addition to poetry (including jazz poetry, which he started writing in high school), he wrote novels, plays, essays, and letters…so many letters. He wrote so many letters, in fact, that at one point he was writing 30 – 40 letters a day and, by the end of his life, he could have filled 20 volumes of books with his letters.
He traveled the world, wrote about his experiences in Paris, Mexico, West Africa, the Azores and Canary Islands, Holland, France, Italy, the Soviet Union, and the Caribbean – but he always came home to Harlem. After all, his patrons were in Harlem. They were, in many ways, the very people about whom he said that he wrote: “workers, roustabouts, and singers, and job hunters on Lenox Avenue in New York, or Seventh Street in Washington or South State in Chicago—people up today and down tomorrow, working this week and fired the next, beaten and baffled, but determined not to be wholly beaten, buying furniture on the installment plan, filling the house with roomers to help pay the rent, hoping to get a new suit for Easter—and pawning that suit before the Fourth of July.” He made a name for himself specifically writing about the Black experience, but (in doing so) he wrote about the American experience.
“Well, I like to eat, sleep, drink, and be in love.
I like to work, read, learn, and understand life.
I like a pipe for a Christmas present,
or records—Bessie, bop, or Bach.
I guess being colored doesn’t make me not like
the same things other folks like who are other races.
So will my page be colored that I write?
Being me, it will not be white.
But it will be
a part of you, instructor.
You are white—
yet a part of me, as I am a part of you.
That’s American.”
– quoted from the poem ”Theme for English B” by Langston Hughes
Being an African-American born at the beginning of the 20th Century meant that Mr. Hughes could easily trace his heritage back to slavery. Both of his paternal great-grandmothers were enslaved and both of his paternal great-grandfathers owned enslaved people.
He could also trace his heritage to freedom and to a time when there was no question about freedom – as well as the time when people appreciated their freedom in new ways. His maternal grandmother, Mary Patterson, was African-American, French, English, and Indigenous American. She was also the first woman to attend Oberlin College. She married a man, Lewis Sheridan Leary, also of mixed heritage, who died in 1859 while participating in John Brown’s raid on Harpers Ferry and eventually married her second husband, Charles Henry Langston. The senior Langston, along with his brother John Mercer Langston, was an abolitionist and leader of the Ohio Anti-Slavery Society, who would eventually become a teacher and voting rights activist. The Langstons’ daughter, Caroline (Carrie), would become a school teacher and the mother of the great poet.
“So boy, don’t you turn back.
Don’t you set down on the steps
’Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.
Don’t you fall now—
For I’se still goin’, honey,
I’se still climbin’,
And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.”
– quoted from the poem “Mother to Son” by Langston Hughes
Raised primarily by his mother and maternal grandmother, Langston Hughes showed a definite talent and interest in writing at an early age. He was also devoted to books. Despite being academically inclined, he struggled with the racism in school – even when it seemed to benefit him – because he couldn’t escape the misconceptions, marginalization, and oppression that came with the stereotypes.
Still, he persisted. He attended Lincoln University, a Historically Black College and University (HBCU) in Chester County, Pennsylvania, where he was the classmate of the then-future Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall. And, when he had the opportunity to share his poetry with a popular white poet, whose poetry “sang” (and was meant to be sung), he took advantage of the moment – even though he was working as a busboy at a New York hotel where the poet (Vachel Lindsay) was having dinner.
“I dream a world where all
Will know sweet freedom’s way,
Where greed no longer saps the soul
Nor avarice blights our day.
A world I dream where black or white,
Whatever race you be,
Will share the bounties of the earth
And every man is free,”
– quoted from “I Dream A World” by Langston Hughes
Langston Hughes and his words left an indelible mark on the world. As Black History Month is all about recognizing African-Americans who were influential to our society – but not always recognized by society; I have often wondered if Langston Hughes’s birthday being on the 1st was the reason Black History Month is in February. Well, as it turns out, it’s just one more example of serendipity.
Created in 1926 by Carter G. Woodson, an African-American historian who was the son of formerly enslaved people, the annual celebration initially started as “Negro History Week” – and it was the second week in February for fifty years. Mr. Woodson started the week so that it coincided with the birthday of President Abraham Lincoln (2/12/1809) and the observed/assumed birthday of Frederick Douglass (2/14/1818), the abolitionist, who escaped slavery at the age of 20. The existence of this heritage month has inspired so many heritage and cultural observation throughout the year that the calendar, in some ways, reflects the United States: diverse and (academically) segregated. It has also changed the way some aspects of American history are taught.
“I look at my own body
With eyes no longer blind—
And I see that my own hands can make
The world that’s in my mind.
Then let us hurry, comrades,
The road to find.
– quoted from the poem “I look at the world” by Langston Hughes
Please join me today (Tuesday, February 1st) at 12:00 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. 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.
Tuesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “Langston & Day 1 2022”]
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*2022 NOTE: According to most printed biographies (that I checked), Langston Hughes was born in 1902. However, many digital sources indicate that he was born in 1901 – and this earlier date is based on research and fact checking reported for the New York Times by Jennifer Schuessler (in 2018). Curiously, the 1940 census listed his birth as “abt 1905;” however, this information would have been given to a census taker by one of the poet’s roommates. (Additionally, we know from one his poems that Langston Hughes didn’t think very highly of the “census man” and the accuracy of census information.)
*
“When the firstborn, P’an Ku [a primordial being in Chinese mythology], was approaching death, his body was transformed. His breath became the wind and clouds; his voice became peals of thunder…. All the mites on his body were touched by the wind [his breath] and evolved into the black-haired people. (Wu yun li-nien chi, cited in Yu shih, PCTP 1.2a)”
– quoted from Chinese Mythology: An Introduction by Anne Birrell
IT’S ALMOST TIME! Are you ready for another “First Friday Night Special?” Please join me this Friday, February the 4th (7:15 – 8:20 PM, CST) when we will consider the importance of having a plan. This practice is open and accessible to all. Additional details will be posted on the “Class Schedules” calendar!
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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.)
Revised 2/2023.
### KEEP ON A-CLIMBIN’ ON ###
Mystical Journeys Around the Sun (Monday’s post-practice post, that’s mostly about the links) January 31, 2022
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Books, Changing Perspectives, Healing Stories, Life, Meditation, Movies, Mysticism, One Hoop, Philosophy, Vipassana, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: Contemplation, Fred Bahnson, inspiration, Jeremy Seifert, pilgrimage, Thomas Merton
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Happy (Lunar) New Year’s Eve!
This post-practice post for Monday, January 31st. You can request an audio recording of Monday’s practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.)
Check out the “Class Schedules” calendar for upcoming classes.
“We’re all on a journey. We’re all going somewhere.”
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“Our task now is to learn that if we can voyage to the ends of the earth, and there find ourselves in the stranger who most differs from ourselves, we will have made a fruitful pilgrimage. This is why pilgrimage is necessary, in some shape or other. Mere sitting at home and meditating on the Divine presence is not enough for our time. We have to come to the end of a long journey and see that the stranger we meet there is no other than ourselves.”
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– quoted from the Emergence Magazine documentary On The Road With Thomas Merton, by Jeremy Seifert and Fred Bahnson, based on Woods, Shore, Desert: A Notebook, May 1968, by Thomas Merton
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Click here for last year’s post inspired by Thomas Merton.
There is no music for the Common Ground Meditation Center practice.
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This YouTube link will take you to the short documentary referenced above.
### How Do You “See” Things After You Sit & Breathe?” ###
For Those Who Missed It (& those who still don’t get it): Divine Remembrance January 27, 2022
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Books, Dharma, Faith, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Loss, Love, One Hoop, Pain, Religion, Suffering, Tragedy, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: Allen Mandelbaum, Cliff Eisen, Dante Alighieri, Eli Wiesel, Herman Abert, Holocaust, International Holocaust Remembrance Day, Israel "Izzy" Arbeiter, Jessica A. Botelho, President Joseph R. Biden, Saint Thomas Aquinas, Selma van de Perre, Stewart Spencer, Trevor Noah, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
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As I mentioned yesterday (and in the previous post), I find it twisted, upside down, and backwards that we need to remind each other that we were all born to be loved (and to love).
Similarly, it boggles my mind that on this day of remembrance there are still people in the world who want to brush the unsightly bits of our collective history under a rug or deny that certain atrocities even existed. Just as bad, in my mind, are people who just refuse to get that staying home and/or socially distancing so that a disease doesn’t kill them or someone they love, is not the same as hiding in an annex so that you or someone you love isn’t murdered. Wearing a mask (of your choosing) is not even close to wearing a yellow star – and it hurts my heart to realize some folks may actually believe otherwise.
The following was originally posted in relation to the January 27, 2021 practice. I’ve added an embedded video from last year. And, even if I’m “preaching to the choir,” I’m going to keep preaching.
“Io non mori’ e non rimasi vivo;
pensa oggimai per te, s’hai fior d’ingegno,
qual io divenni, d’uno e d’altro privo.”
“I did not die, and I was not alive;
think for yourself, if you have any wit,
what I became, deprived of life and death.”
– quoted from Dante’s The Divine Comedy – Inferno, Canto 34 (lines 25 – 27), translated by Allen Mandelbaum
“I did not die, and yet I lost life’s breath: imagine for yourself what I became, deprived at once of both my life and death.”
– A popular, oft quoted, translation of Dante’s The Divine Comedy – Inferno, Canto 34 (lines 25 – 27)
In November 1301, Florence, Italy was the site of a great political upheaval that destroyed much of the city, established a new government, and resulted in the death or banishment of many of the previous leaders. One of those people exiled from their hometown was Dante Alighieri, who was banished on January 27, 1302. Dante had very briefly served as the city’s prior, one of its highest positions, and when the new government – ruled by his political enemies – took over, he was accused of corruption, ordered to pay a fine, and to spend two years in exile. But, the poet didn’t believe he had done anything wrong and, more to the point, his assets had been seized by the new government. So, his sentence was changed to perpetual exile (with the threat of death if he returned without paying the fine.)
Thus began the poet’s bitter wandering. He was in his mid-30’s; and while he would participate in several failed attempts to retake Florence, much of the remaining 20-odd years of his life would be devoted to writing The Divine Comedy, a long narrative poem divided into three parts: Inferno, Purgatorio, and Paradiso. In the poem, the poet (and his soul) literally travel through Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven (or Paradise) – and metaphorically travel towards God. He is initially guided by the ancient Roman poet Virgil, who represents “human reason;” but it is Beatrice, who symbolizes divine knowledge/love and who first appeared as the object of the poet’s great love in his “little book” La Vita Nuova (The New Life), who guides him from the end of Purgatorio into Paradiso. The poem reflects Dante’s medieval Roman Catholic beliefs and draws strongly from the teachings of Saint Thomas Aquinas, one of the great saints he meets in Paradise.
“Article 1. Whether the soul was made or was of God’s substance?
Objection 1. It would seem that the soul was not made, but was God’s substance. For it is written (Genesis 2:7): ‘God formed man of the slime of the earth, and breathed into his face the breath of life, and man was made a living soul.’ But he who breathes sends forth something of himself. Therefore the soul, whereby man lives, is of the Divine substance.”
– from Summa Theologica (1a Qq. 90, volume 13) by Saint Thomas Aquinas
Even when we have different theological and/or philosophical beliefs, we can agree that breathing is a sign of life, of being alive. However, there are medical situations where someone is breathing and there are no other signs of life. Then there are medical and existential situations where someone is alive, but not living. This latter can be very subjective. Yet, I would argue that there are situations under which almost everyone can categorically agree that it would be really hard to truly live (and feel alive). Those same situations are the ones where it would be hard to take a deep breath in and a deeper breath out.
I think, perhaps, Dante felt that feeling (of being alive, but not living) to a certain degree when he was exiled from his home and had almost everything familiar to him stripped away. However, Dante could still roam, and to a certain degree freely. He lived out his life in relative comfort and he was still free to worship according to his beliefs. He was not persecuted for his beliefs (only, for his politics) nor was he tortured because of his gender, ethnicity, height and appearance, or simply because he had a sibling born on the same day. He could write what he wanted to write and received recognition for his efforts. Furthermore, with the exception of what would happen if he returned to Florence, he did not have to fear being killed for his beliefs – or any of his personal attributes. He may have felt, metaphorically, as if he was “deprived of life and death,” but he still had some control over his life and his ability to live it. On the flip side, the millions of people rounded up, persecuted, imprisoned, tortured, and killed during the Holocaust, spent many of their days in a reality much like the first part of Dante’s poem: they were actually deprived of life and living.
“‘I [will never forget ‘the very bad things’….] I was there and had to see this with my own eyes,’ he said. ‘My mother and my father, and my 7-year-old brother, were murdered in another camp in Treblinka, which is not far from Warsaw.’”
– Israel “Izzy” Arbeiter, a 95-year old Holocaust survivor and lifelong rights activist, telling his story in “Auschwitz survivor reflects on Holocaust Remembrance Day” by Jessica A. Botelho (for NBC 10 News, WJAR, 1/27/2021)
The persecution during the Holocaust started with social and physical segregation; it escalated into government-sanctioned destruction of property; and eventually progressed to the establishment of concentration camps across German-occupied Europe. Millions fled their homes. Millions more would be held captive and tortured. An estimated two-thirds of Europe’s Jewish population was murdered while the world stood by, in some cases in disbelief. In addition to the approximately 6 million Jewish people who died, the Holocaust claimed the lives of an estimated 5 million Slavs, 3 million ethnic Poles, 200,000 Romani people, 250,000 mentally and physically disabled people, and 9,000 members of the LGBTQIA+ community (mostly identified as gay men). This horrifically tragic destruction of society and community during the Holocaust was not, cannot be, over-dramatized. It also should not be forgotten.
In November 2005, the United Nations General Assembly resolution 60/7 designated January 27th as International Holocaust Remembrance Day. In addition to establishing a day of remembrance and calling for an outreach program, the UN’s resolution also “urges Member States to develop educational programmes… in order to help to prevent future acts of genocide…; rejects any denial of the Holocaust as an historical event, either in full or part; and condemns without reservation all manifestations of religious intolerance, incitement, harassment or violence against persons or communities based on ethnic origin or religious belief, wherever they occur.” The original resolution is reinforced by UN resolution 61/255 (issued in January 2007), which reaffirmed the General Assembly and Member States’ strong condemnation of Holocaust denial and noted “that all people and States have a vital stake in a world free of genocide.”
January 27th was chosen as a day of remembrance as it was the Saturday, in 1945, when Auschwitz-Birkenau (the largest Nazi concentration and death camp complex) was liberated by the Workers’ and Peasants’ Red Army. The liberators found approximately 7,500 survivors – not realizing at the time that these “survivors” had been designated as too sick or weak to be transported (i.e., marched) to another site as the Allies were closing in on the Nazis. The Red Army also did not initially realize that the camp complex had held at least 1.3 million prisoners, most of whom had been or would be killed before the other camps were liberated in April and May of 1945.
“For in my tradition, as a Jew, I believe that whatever we receive we must share. When we endure an experience, the experience cannot stay with me alone. It must be opened, it must become an offering, it must be deepened and given and shared. And of course I am afraid that memories suppressed could come back with a fury, which is dangerous to all human beings, not only to those who directly were participants but to people everywhere, to the world, for everyone. So, therefore, those memories that are discarded, shamed, somehow they may come back in different ways, disguised, perhaps seeking another outlet.”
“What is a witness if not someone who has a tale to tell and lives only with one haunting desire: to tell it. Without memory, there is no culture. Without memory, there would be no civilization, no society, no future.
After all, God is God, because He remembers.”
– quoted from an April 7, 2008 All Things Considered: “This I Believe” essay by Elie Wiesel
Elie Wiesel was one of the most famous survivors of the Holocaust. He was a teenager when he and his family were sent to the concentration camps. His parents (Sarah Feig and Shlomo Wiesel) and his sister Tzipora would not survive the camps. He was reunited with his older two sisters (Beatrice and Hilda) at a French orphanage. For 10 years, Professor Wiesel went about the business of living his life – but he did not speak or write about his experience during the Holocaust.
He did not speak or write about his younger sister or about how his father guided him with reason and his mother guided him with faith. He did not speak or write about the guilt and shame of being helpless or about how (and why) he maintained the will to survive. Then he began to write and speak and advocate for change. He advocated not only for Jewish rights and causes, but also for non-Jewish people oppressed in places like South Africa, Nicaragua, Kosovo, Sudan, and Armenia. In 1986, he was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize and he received a plethora of awards from around the world, including the United States’ 1986 Medal of Liberty and the 1992 Presidential of Freedom.
Anne Frank was born less than a year after Elie Wiesel and would spend much of Germany’s occupation of the Netherlands in hiding. A mere five months before the Auschwitz-Birkenau camp was liberated Anne’s family and friends were discovered and sent to the concentration camps. She was 15 years old, basically the same age Elie Wisel had been when his family was rounded up. Anne; her mother Edith; her sister Margot; their friends Hermann and Auguste van Pels; and Fritz Pfeffer, the final person to hid in the Annex, all died in the camps or while being transported between the camps towards the end of the war. Anne’s friend, Peter van Pels, died 5 days after the camp he was in was liberated by the Americans. Peter’s parents (Hermann and Auguste), and Fritz Pfeffer all died in the camps.
Otto Frank was the only person hiding in the Annex who survived the camps. He was one of those designated as “too sick” or “too weak” to be transported and therefore was at Auschwitz-Birkenau when the camp complex was liberated on Saturday, January 27, 1945. He would soon discover that his family and friends had not survived. However, a piece of Anne and the family’s history had survived.
Miep Gies, his former secretary and one of the six Annex “helpers,” had held onto Anne’s journals. Those journals, which Anne called “Kitty,” were full of the day-to-day minutia of their lives in hiding; Anne’s thoughts about the state of the world, her feelings about her family and the others in hiding; details about her first kiss and budding romance with Peter; her personal ambitions and desires; and her passions. She wrote about the things that gave her hope: a tree, a patch of blue sky, fresh air, and music.
In fact, on more than one occasion, Anne Frank wrote about being inspired by music. She wrote about receiving a biography of the composer Franz Listz and about listening to “a beautiful Mozart concert on the radio” with Peter. It is presented as a date, a little living in the middle of hiding. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, who was born January 27, 1756, might have especially appreciated that she wrote, “I especially enjoyed the ‘Kleine Nachtmusik.’ I can hardly bear to listen in the kitchen, since beautiful music stirs me to the very depths of my soul.”
“…music, in even the most terrible situations, must never offend the ear but always remain a source of pleasure.”
– quoted from a letter (dated September 26, 1781) from Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart to his father, as printed in W. A. Mozart by Hermann Abert (Editor: Professor Cliff Eisen and Translator: Stewart Spencer)
The playlist for this practice is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “012701 Holocaust Liberation & Remembrance”]
“I first learned about the horrors of the Holocaust listening to my father at the dinner table. The passion he felt that we should have done more to prevent the Nazi campaign of systematic mass murder has stayed with me my entire life. It’s why I took my children to visit Dachau in Germany, and why I hope to do the same for each of my grandchildren — so they too would see for themselves the millions of futures stolen away by unchecked hatred and understand in their bones what can happen when people turn their heads and fail to act.
We must pass the history of the Holocaust on to our grandchildren and their grandchildren in order to keep real the promise of “never again.” That is how we prevent future genocides. Remembering the victims, heroes, and lessons of the Holocaust is particularly important today as Holocaust deniers and minimizers are growing louder in our public discourse. But the facts are not up for question, and each of us must remain vigilant and speak out against the resurgent tide of anti-Semitism, and other forms of bigotry and intolerance, here at home and around the world.”
– “Statement by President Joseph R. Biden, Jr. on International Holocaust Remembrance Day,” released January 27, 2021
Sssh. Listen. Selma is speaking!
### PEACE IN, PEACE OUT ###
Sitting, Breathing… in a Room [the “missing” Tuesday post] January 26, 2022
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in "Impossible" People, Abhyasa, Art, Books, Changing Perspectives, Depression, Dharma, Food, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Loss, Movies, Mysticism, One Hoop, Pain, Peace, Philosophy, Suffering, Tragedy, Vairagya, Vipassana, Wisdom, Women, Writing, Yoga.Tags: bandhas, Carl Jung, Dr. Toya Webb, Haţha Yoga Pradipika, Matthew Sanford, Maty Ezraty, MBSR, mental health, Michael Cunningham, Moon Knight, Pancham Sinh, siddhis, The Air I Breathe, trauma, Virginia Woolf
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Warning: This post references to mental health and a person who experienced severe emotional distress.
This is the “missing” post for Tuesday, January 25th. Links in the 4th paragraph of the “Coda” will connect you to other websites. You can request an audio recording of the practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.
Check out the “Class Schedules” calendar for upcoming classes.)
Coda:
Do you ever think about what yoga and Virginia Woolf have in common? No? Just me? Ok, that’s fine; it’s not the first time – and will not be the last time that I make what, on the surface, appears to be a really random connection. It’s not even the first (and probably won’t be the last) time this week. However, in circling back to this practice and this theme, I found myself thinking a little more about mental health and the implications of having space, time, and the other resources to focus, concentrate, contemplate, and meditate.
Last year, this practice fell on Monday, 12521 (making it a palindrome practice). While I waited until the following day to reference Carl Jung’s thoughts on yoga and mental health, those thoughts are always hovering in the back of my mind. And yes, that is the second time this week I’ve mentioned the psychiatrist and psychoanalysis on the blog. However, he and his work have come up at least three times this week. Starting with a conversation I had with my brother.
As some of you know, my youngest brother is one of the coolest people I know. He is cool on a lot of different levels, including being pretty Zen in temperament. But, he doesn’t have a regular practice yoga or meditation practice and he doesn’t really talk about those things with people who do (except me). Over the weekend, he asked me about something he read regarding yoga, meditation, and people who have experienced trauma. Our conversations, as they often do, oscillated between the experiences of real people and the experiences of a certain Marvel comic book character. We talked a little about the emotional ramifications of sitting and breathing… and the things that come up when one is essentially alone with their thoughts. It’s a double-edged sword, as Dr. Jung pointed out – as Patanjali, Vyasa, and other early yoga scribes pointed out. So, we talked about the importance of practicing with care and awareness.
Today there is trauma-sensitive yoga, trauma-informed yoga, MBSR (Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction), HeartMath®, and people who just practice yoga with an awareness that stuff comes up. I mean; we’ve all been through something and when you’ve been through something, stuff comes up. The more intense the trauma-related experience was, the more intense it can be when stuff comes up. Every practice doesn’t work for every person (even Patanjali pointed this out at the beginning of the fourth section of the Yoga Sūtras); but every person needs some way to process what they have experienced – whether they consider it traumatic or not.
Journaling is helpful. Talking to someone is helpful. Connecting with nature is helpful. Sitting and breathing is helpful. You may not need (or want) a “trauma-” label associated with your method of processing, but if you find yourself being overwhelmed by emotion, do something: Ask for help! Maybe a teacher engaged in mindfulness-based practices can help you. Maybe you have a spiritual and/or religious guide who can help you. Maybe you need a mental health professional. Either way, remember that sensation is information; it’s the way the mind-body tells our stories.
Matthew Sanford, the founder of Mind Body Solutions, talks about “healing stories” – the stories we tell ourselves (and each other) to explain our experiences. Those stories are one of the ways we process our stuff. Dr. Toya Webb reminds us that we are “always listening [to the story we tell ourselves] – whether it is destructive or productive.” Maty Ezraty, a master yoga teacher, said that every practice is like a good story.
Consider all of this as you read the following revised version of last year’s post entitled, “Who’s Afraid of Breathing?”
“surājye dhārmike deśe subhikṣhe nirupadrave |
dhanuḥ pramāṇa-paryantaṃ śilāghni-jala-varjite |
ekānte maṭhikā-madhye sthātavyaṃ haṭha-yoghinā || 12 ||
The Yogī should practise [sic] Haṭha Yoga in a small room, situated in a solitary place, being 4 cubits square, and free from stones, fire, water, disturbances of all kinds, and in a country where justice is properly administered, where good people live, and food can be obtained easily and plentifully.”
– quoted from “Chapter 1. On Āsanas” of the Haţha Yoga Pradipika, translated by Pancham Sinh (1914)
“… a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction…”
– quoted from the essay “A Room of One’s Own,” as it appears in A Room of One’s Own And, Three Guineas by Virginia Woolf
In October 1928, Virginia Woolf gave two speeches to two different student societies at Newnham College and Girton College, which at the time were two of the all-women colleges at the University of Cambridge. (NOTE: Newnham is still an all-women’s college. Girton started accepting men in 1971 and started allowing men to be “Mistress,” or head of the college, in 1976.) The speeches were about women and fiction – and specifically detailed why there were so few women writers who had earned acclaimed (and, to certain degree, why those that did often did so anonymously or with “male” names). She also highlighted the absurd trichotomy between the two wildly archetypical way women are portrayed in literature and the reality of the very different types of women in the room, let alone in the world.
Born Virginia Stephen in Kensington, England, Janaury 25, 1882, Ms. Woolf speculated about the works that might have come from a woman (say, in Shakespeare’s time) who had a helpmate to take care of the cooking, cleaning, children, and other household business. She also talked about the social constraints that not only prevented a woman from devoting copious time to the practical application of her craft, writing, but also the social constraints and inequalities that could result in what would amount to writer’s block. All this, she detailed, even before she addressed the issue of a market place predisposed to highlight male writers – and she introduced her ideas by establishing two (really three) of the things a woman would need to overcome the obstacles of society: (time), space, and money.
When I first started going deeper into my physical practice of yoga, I looked into some of the classic texts within the tradition. One of those texts was the Haţha Yoga Pradipika (Light on the Physical Practice of Yoga), a 15th Century text that focuses on āsanas (“seats” or poses), prāņāyāma (breath awareness and control), mudrās (“seals” or “gestures”), and Samādhi (that ultimate form of “meditation” that is absorption). Throughout the text, and in particular in the chapter on mudrās, there is a breakdown of how energy, power, or vitality moves through the body and the benefits of harnessing that power.
I would eventually appreciate how the text is almost a summary of the earlier Yoga Sūtras, but (as an English lit major), what struck me first was how similar these early instructions – related to a practice that can be used to cultivate clarity and harness the power of the mind – were to Virginia Woolf’s advice to women writers.
“athāsane dṝdhe yoghī vaśī hita-mitāśanaḥ |
ghurūpadiṣhṭa-mārgheṇa prāṇāyāmānsamabhyaset || 1 ||
Posture becoming established, a Yogî, master of himself, eating salutary and moderate food, should practise [sic] Prâṇâyâma, as instructed by his guru.”
– quoted from “Chapter 2. On Prāņāyāma” of the Haţha Yoga Pradipika, translated by Pancham Sinh (1914)
“I feel a thousand capacities spring up in me. I am arch, gay, languid, melancholy by turns. I am rooted, but I flow.”
– quoted from “Susan” in The Waves by Virginia Woolf
Just as Virginia Woolf addressed misconceptions about women in her essays and fiction, the translator Pancham Sinh addressed some misconceptions about people who practice yoga and the practice of prāņāyāma in an introduction to the Haţha Yoga Pradipika. Part of the introduction is an admonishment to people who would study the practice, but do not practice it, stating, “People put their faith implicitly in the stories told them about the dangers attending the practice, without ever taking the trouble of ascertaining the fact themselves. We have been inspiring and expiring air from our birth, and will continue to do so till death; and this is done without the help of any teacher. Prāņāyāma is nothing but a properly regulated form of the otherwise irregular and hurried flow of air, without using much force or undue restraint; and if this is accomplished by patiently keeping the flow slow and steady, there can be no danger. It is the impatience for the Siddhis which cause undue pressure on the organs and thereby causes pains in the ears, the eyes, the chest, etc. If the three bandhas be carefully performed while practicing [sic] the Prāņāyāma, there is no possibility of any danger.”
Siddhis are the powers or “accomplishments” achieved from continuous practice. They range from being able to extend peace out into the world and understanding all languages; to being able to levitate and know the inner workings of another’s heart and mind; to the six “powers unique to being human.” Bandhas are “locks” and refer to internal engagements used to seal sections of the body in order to control the flow of prāņā. The three major bandhas referred to in the text are the same engagements I encourage when I tell people to “zip up” and engage the pelvic floor and lower abdominal cavity (mūla bandha), the mid and upper abdominal cavity (uḍḍīyana bandha), and the throat (jālandhara bandha). I typically refer to a fourth – pada bandha – which is a seal for the feet; however, in classical texts the fourth bandha is the engagement of the three major bandhas (root, abdominal, and throat) at the same time.
Before anyone gets it twisted, let’s be clear that this introduction is not advice to grab a book and follow instructions without the guidance of a teacher. In fact, Pancham Sinh specifically advised people to find a teacher who practiced and indicated that while one could follow the directions from a (sacred) book, there are some things that cannot be expressed in words. There are some things that can only be felt.
This is consistent with Patanjali’s explanation that the elements and senses that make up the “objective world” can be “divided into four categories: specific, unspecific, barely describable, and absolutely indescribable.” (YS 2.19) That is to say, there are some things that have specific sense-related reference points; some things that can be referred back to the senses, but only on a personal level; some things that have no reference points, but can be understood through “a sign” or comprehension of sacred text; and some things which cannot be described, because there is no tangible reference point and/or “sign” – there is only essence.
One of the things we can feel, but not touch, is emotion. Emotions can come with visceral experiences and, in that way, can fall into the “unspecific” category. More often than not, however, what we feel is “barely describable” (or even indescribable) – and yet, writers are always trying to describe or capture the essence of what is felt. As the author of nine novels (including one published shortly after her death), five short story collections (most of which were published after her death), a hybrid novel (part fiction, part non-fiction), three book-length essays, a biography, and hundreds of articles, reviews, and essays, Virginia Woolf constantly endeavored to describe what she felt and what she felt she saw others feeling. Even more salient, she often focused on the disconnection between what her characters felt and what they could describe about what they felt.
The author’s efforts were hindered, or aided (depending on one’s viewpoint), by the fact that she experienced so much trauma and heartbreak; much of which led to emotional despair. She was possibly (probably) abused by one of her half-brothers from an early age. Then she suffered a mental breakdown at the age of 13, after her mother died. Then she had to deal with the death of her half-sister and a maternal role model just two years later. When her father he died, in 1904, she had another breakdown, the severity of which landed her in the country for a period of convalescence. It was during this period that she began to write in earnest (even though the doctors had recommended that she only write letters) and that she would meet Leonard Woolf, the author whom she would marry in 1912. The writing helped, in that she seemed to find some mental and emotional stability for about 15 years. But, she would experience another breakdown after correcting the proofs of her first novel, The Voyage Out. The novel was published by her half-brother’s publishing company (yes, that aforementioned half-brother) and introduced the world to “Clarissa Dalloway,” the protagonist of her fourth novel.
“evaṃ vidhe maṭhe sthitvā sarva-chintā-vivarjitaḥ |
ghurūpadiṣhṭa-mārgheṇa yoghameva samabhyaset || 14 ||
Having seated in such a room and free from all anxieties, he should practise [sic] Yoga, as instructed by his guru.”
– quoted from “Chapter 1. On Āsanas” of the Haţha Yoga Pradipika, translated by Pancham Sinh (1914)
“You cannot find peace by avoiding life.”
– quoted from The Hours: a novel by Michael Cunningham
It is interesting to me that while the instruction for the Haţha Yoga Pradipika instructed a person to practice when they were “free from…disturbances of all kinds” (HYP 1.12); “free from dirt, filth and insects” (HYP 1.13); and “free from all anxieties” (HYP 1.14), the vast majority of people practicing in the modern world do so in order to free themselves from the various maladies that plague them. Additionally, I find it interesting that historians, teachers of literature, and even psychiatrists spend a lot of time (theoretically) diagnosing a young woman (Virginia Woolf) who may have been experiencing (and working through) the most natural of emotions; natural, given her circumstances.
Were her emotions extreme and potentially dangerous? Yes, by all accounts – including her own words and her death – her emotions were extreme and dangerous; as were her circumstances. Initially, she was able to work through her distress because she had the support of those to whom she was connected. In the end, however, she was left alone and feeling disconnected.
The Air I Breathe, one of my favorite movies, was released in the United States Janaury 25, 2008. Inspired by the idea that emotions are like fingers on a hand, the main characters are known to the audience as Happiness, Pleasure, Sorrow, Love, and Fingers – and their stories are interconnected, even though they don’t necessarily realize it. In fact, some of the most desperate actions in the movie are motivated by fear and a sense of isolation. Promotional materials for the movie proclaimed, “We are all strangers / We are all living in fear / We are all ready to change” and in the movie Happiness asks, “So where does change come from? And how do we recognize it when it happens?” Happiness also says, “I always wondered, when a butterfly leaves the safety of its cocoon, does it realize how beautiful it has become? or does it still just see itself as a caterpillar? I think both the statement and the questions could be applied to so many, if not all, of Virginia Woolf’s characters. They could also be applied to all of us in the world right now.
“‘For,’ the outsider will say, ‘in fact as a woman, I have no country. As a woman I want no country. As a woman my country is the whole world.’ And if, when reason has had its say, still some obstinate emotion remains, some love of England dropped into a child’s ears… this drop of pure, if irrational, emotion she will make serve her to give to England first what she desires of peace and freedom for the whole world.”
– quoted from the novel-essay “Three Guineas,” as it appears in The Selected Works of Virginia Woolf by Virginia Woolf
As I have mentioned before, I consider the 8-Limbed Yoga Philosophy to have very real-time, practical applications and I normally think of the physical practice as an opportunity to practice, explore, and play with the various elements of the philosophy. I will even sometimes use aspects of alignment as a metaphor for situations in our lives off the mat. Given this last year the last few years, however, I have really started to consider how āsana instructions from classic texts like The Yoga Sūtras of Patanjali and the Haţha Yoga Pradipika, can be more practically applied to the most basic aspects of everyday life.
- For instance, if we spend our time on the mat cultivating a “steady/stable, comfortable/easy/joyful” foundation in order to breathe easier and more deeply, doesn’t it make sense to spend some time cultivating the same type of foundation in our lives?
- Going out a little more, if we do not have the luxury or privilege of practicing “in a country where justice is properly administered, where good people live, and food can be obtained easily and plentifully,” doesn’t it behoove us to create that land?
- Finally, what happens if we (to paraphrase yoga sūtras 2.46-47) establish a baseline for stability and then loosen up a little bit and focus on the infinite? Patanjali and the authors of the other sacred texts told us we would become more of who we are: leaner in body, healthier, brighter, more joyful, “clearer, stronger, and more intuitive.” In other words: peaceful and blissful.
“lōkāḥ samastāḥ sukhinōbhavantu”
– A mettā (loving-kindness) chant that translates to “May all-beings, everywhere, be happy and be free.”
Tuesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.
“vapuḥ kṝśatvaṃ vadane prasannatā
nāda-sphuṭatvaṃ nayane sunirmale |
aroghatā bindu-jayo|aghni-dīpanaṃ
nāḍī-viśuddhirhaṭha-siddhi-lakṣhaṇam || 78 ||
When the body becomes lean, the face glows with delight, Anâhatanâda manifests, and eyes are clear, body is healthy, bindu under control, and appetite increases, then one should know that the Nâdîs are purified and success in Haṭha Yoga is approaching.”
– quoted from “Chapter 1. On Āsanas” of the Haţha Yoga Pradipika, translated by Pancham Sinh (1914)
“The human frame being what it is, heart, body and brain all mixed together, and not contained in separate compartments as they will be no doubt in another million years, a good dinner is of great importance to good talk. One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.”
– quoted from the essay “A Room of One’s Own,” as it appears in A Room of One’s Own And, Three Guineas by Virginia Woolf
If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can call 1-800-273-TALK (8255). You can also call the TALK line if you are struggling with addiction or involved in an abusive relationship. The Lifeline network is free, confidential, and available to all 24/7. YOU CAN TALK ABOUT ANYTHING.
If you are a young person in crisis, feeling suicidal, or in need of a safe and judgement-free place to talk, contact the TrevorLifeline (which is staffed 24/7 with trained counselors).
“Realize that there is freedom in telling your story and that there is power in your words.”
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– quoted from the November 2018 TedxDelthorneWomen talk entitled, “Change Your Perspective and Change Your Story” by Dr. Toya Webb
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### OM SHANTI, SHANTI, SHANTHI OM ###
Being: Lessons in the present moment (the “missing” Monday post) January 25, 2022
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Books, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Dharma, Faith, Gratitude, Healing Stories, Hope, Karma, Life, Loss, Love, Meditation, Mysticism, One Hoop, Pain, Peace, Philosophy, Suffering, Super Heroes, Tragedy, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: Debbie Berne., Jessica McClure., Martin Luther King Jr, Mobi Ho, Nyanasatta Thera, Rachel Neumann, Satipattthana Sutta, Thích Nhất Hạnh, Thomas J Bushlack, Thomas Merton
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This post practice post for Monday, January 24th. Some links in this post will connect you to other websites. You can request an audio recording of Monday’s practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.
Check out the “Class Schedules” calendar for upcoming classes.
“‘And further, O bhikkhus, a bhikkhu, in going forwards (and) in going backwards, is a person practicing clear comprehension; in looking straight on (and) in looking away from the front, is a person practicing clear comprehension; in bending and in stretching, is a person practicing clear comprehension; in wearing the shoulder-cloak, the (other two) robes (and) the bowl, is a person practicing clear comprehension; in regard to what is eaten, drunk, chewed and savored, is a person practicing clear comprehension; in defecating and in urinating, is a person practicing clear comprehension; in walking, in standing (in a place), in sitting (in some position), in sleeping, in waking, in speaking and in keeping silence, is a person practicing clear comprehension.
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“Thus he lives contemplating the body in the body internally… and clings to naught in the world. Thus, also, O bhikkhus, a bhikkhu lives contemplating the body in the body.'”
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– quoted from “The Four Kinds of Clear Comprehension” in Satipatthana Sutta (The Foundations of Mindfulness) translated by Nyanasatta Thera
As I was getting ready for class on Saturday, I read that Thích Nhất Hạnh, the renowned Vietnamese Thiền (Zen) Buddhist monk had passed. He was 95, and while his life was not easy or – in some ways – peaceful, he had some ease and peace in his heart. He practiced and preached tapping into that ease and peace and he inspired others to do the same, regardless of their external circumstances. The world is lighting up with tributes to him that include details about his interfaith relationships with people like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Jim Forest, and Thomas Merton. People are talking about how he was exiled from his home for 39 years; how he founded Plum Village Tradition; and how, in the process, he founded one of the largest (if not, the largest) monastic Buddhist orders in the West. People are remembering that his peace activism included an investment in the ecology. People are also talking about his books, which is part of what I’m doing here.
Thích Nhất Hạnh wrote over a hundred books, including at least one book for kids, and even more articles. His writings, like his dhamma talks, workshops, and presence-in-the-world inspired billions of people to examine how they live day-to-day. Like so many people around the world, my life was impacted by this great teacher that I never had the pleasure of meeting in-person. But, never doubt that he was very definitely one of my teachers.
As I have mentioned before, I used to carry one of his books around in my backpack and I would give it to random people who expressed an interest in beginning a meditation practice. I have read some of his other books – just as I have read and practiced with related books by other authors – but one little book (published in 1975) keeps coming up. When Dr. Thomas J. Bushlack extended me a great honor, several years in a row, by inviting me to share my practices with his J-term students, I took the same little book along. And, of course, when I answered some FAQ’s as part of my 2017 Kiss My Asana offering, the book came up.
For Monday’s class, I shared some related stories from this little book. I shared vignettes about washing dishes, drinking tea, and eating a tangerine – first during an easy time with a friend (Jim Forest) and then during a time when that same friend was imprisoned because of political activism during the Vietnam war. These passages were just a few of my favorites, and I considered sharing more. But, ultimately, I realized what that just sharing those bits was like friends sharing slices of a tangerine: it was enough. It was a lesson in the moment and of the moment.
“While washing the dishes one should only be washing the dishes, which means that while washing the dishes one should be completely aware of the fact that one is washing the dishes. At first glance that might seem silly: why put so much stress on a simple thing? But that’s precisely the point. The fact that I am standing there and washing these bowls is a wondrous reality. I’m being completely myself, following my breath, conscious of my presence, and conscious of my thoughts and actions. There’s no way I can be tossed around mindlessly like a bottle slapped here and there on the waves.”
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– quoted from “1. The Essential Discipline – Washing the dishes to wash the dishes” in The Miracle of Mindfulness: A Manual on Meditation by Thích Nhất Hạnh (English translation by Mobi Ho)
My similar dilemma regarding a book on meditation could be resolved by recommending a book on yoga mediation… and a book from each of several different Buddhist traditions…plus a book on the Kabbalah…and a book on Catholic contemplation and…..You get the idea. But, when it gets right down to it, there’s one book I am continually giving away – and it’s the same book used when I guided meditation with Dr. Thomas J. Bushlack’s University of St. Thomas classes: The Miracle of Mindfulness: A Manual on Meditation by Thích Nhất Hạnh.
I first came across The Miracle of Mindfulness when I was babysitting for some friends in Minneapolis. One day, when the kids were napping, this little violet paperback on the bookshelf in the living room caught my eye. I pulled it down, and found…stillness.
OK, I’m being dramatic. I had, of course, already experienced stillness in both yoga and seated meditation. However, Thích Nhất Hạnh’s The Miracle of Mindfulness made me pause, sit, and contemplate my overall practice and its connection to meditation. Over the last ten years, it has played an instrumental part in my re-commitment to the physical practice of yoga as a form of meditation.
Let me be clear: Thích Nhất Hạnh is not known as a yoga teacher and The Miracle of Mindfulness is not a book related to hatha yoga (the physical practice of yoga). Thích Nhất Hạnh is a Vietnamese Buddhist monk most commonly associated with Zen Buddhism, but whose training includes several traditions. His Miracle of Mindfulness is based on Buddhist principles and practices, but is not teaching Buddhism, per se. Some might argue that it is not even teaching meditation (but, rather, mindfulness). Still, it accessible to people regardless of their background or experience and includes personal anecdotes as well as a series of practices that are simultaneously simple and profound.
To answer E’s final question, The Miracle of Mindfulness definitely has the tools to help a beginner establish a daily practice. Tools, however, do not build a mansion – and the mansion will not be built overnight.
“If we are are not fully ourselves, truly in the present moment, we miss everything.”
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– quoted from “PART ONE: Breathe! You Are Alive – Breathing and Scything – Flower Insights” in Peace is Every Step: The Path of Mindfulness in Everyday Life by Thích Nhất Hạnh (edited by Arnold Kotler)
There is no music for the Common Ground Meditation Center practice.
[NOTE: Music referenced in relation to the date can be found towards the end of the Sunday post.]
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“How long am I going to live?
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Here is some good news. If you look deeply into everything, you can see that you will live forever. You will never die; you will just change form. You are like a cloud. A cloud can become snow or rain, but it can’t die. You are like a wave in the ocean. After you rise and fall as a wave, you will still be part of the ocean. Your shape will change but you won’t disappear.”
*
– quoted from Is Nothing Something? Kids’ Questions And Zen Answers About Life, Death, Family, Friendship, And Everything In Between by Thích Nhất Hạnh (edited by Rachel Neumann, Illustrated by Jessica McClure, with Cover and Interior Design by Debbie Berne)
For more about the tangerine meditation, check out this article by Thích Nhất Hạnh, posted at mindfulnessbell.org.
*
### “Half-Smile When You First Wake Up In the Morning” ~TNH ###
Doing: Lessons in unexpected, ridiculously inconvenient, unplayable things (& “impossible” people) [the “missing” Sunday post] January 24, 2022
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in "Impossible" People, Abhyasa, Art, Books, California, Changing Perspectives, Depression, Faith, Gratitude, Healing Stories, Health, Hope, Karma, Life, Love, Mantra, Mathematics, Movies, Music, Pain, Peace, Philosophy, Science, Suffering, Tragedy, Vairagya, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: 1990), Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA, avidya, avidyā, Bösendorfer, Carl Jung, Cologne Germany, David Shenk, Dr. Gerald Lynn Early, ECM Records, Ed Roberts, Haratio Walpole, Harry Reasoner, Improv, jazz, Keith Jarrett, Lee Roberts, Manfred Eicher, Miles Davis, neuralplasticity, Pavlov's dog, psychology, samskāras, serendipity, Seth Meyers, svadyaya, synchronicity, Tim Harford, vasanas, Vera Brandes, vāsanās, Zona Roberts
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This is the “missing” post for Sunday, January 23rd (and contains 2-for-1 information related to January 24th). You can request an audio recording of the practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.
Check out the “Class Schedules” calendar for upcoming classes.)
“The causality principle asserts that the connection between cause and effect is a necessary one. The synchronicity principle asserts that the terms of a meaningful coincidence are connected by simultaneity and meaning…. Although meaning is an anthropomorphic interpretation it nevertheless forms the indispensable criterion of synchronicity. What that factor which appears to us as “meaning” may be in itself we have no possibility of knowing. As an hypothesis, however, it is not quite so impossible as may appear at first sight. We must remember that the rationalistic attitude of the West is not the only possible one and is not all-embracing, but is in many ways a prejudice and a bias that ought perhaps to be corrected.”
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– quoted from “3. Forerunners of the Idea of Synchronicity” in Synchronicity: An Acausal Connecting Principle by C. G. Jung
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“This discovery, indeed, is almost of that kind which I call Serendipity, a very expressive word, which, as I have nothing better to tell you, I shall endeavor to explain to you: you will understand it better by the derivation than the definition. I once read a silly fairy tale, called “The Three Princes of Serendip”: as their Highnesses travelled, they were always making discoveries, by accidents and sagacity, of things which they were not in quest of: for instance, one of the them discovered that a mule blind of the right eye had travelled the same road lately, because the grass was eaten only on the left side, where it was worse than on the right….”
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– quoted from a letter addressed to Sir Horace Mann, dated January 28, 1754, by Horace Walpole (The Right Honorable The (4th) Earl of Orford, Horatio Walpole)
Causality, the principles of cause and effect, are a big aspect of the Yoga philosophy – and I am, without a doubt, a big fan. That said, I am also a big fan of synchronicity and serendipity. As much as I pay attention to cause-and-effect, I often delight in things that just seem to “randomly” fall into place and things (or people) that show up when I “need” them, but wasn’t looking for them. Granted, there are times when I consider chaos theory and see if I can trace back to some little thing that started the domino effect; however, I’m also just open to being pleasantly surprised by “accidental goodness.”
Do you know what I mean? Has that happened to you? And how open are you to those kinds of things?
My guess, and it’s not much of a stretch, is that your open-ness, or lack thereof, is based on past experiences. I mean, on a certain level, everything is based on past experiences. We do something new and a new neural pathway is created, a new thin veil of saṃskāra (“mental impression”) is lowered over us. We do that same thing again and we start to hardwire that new neural pathway, the veil becomes more opaque. Over time, our behaviors and reactions become so hardwired, that our saṃskāras becoming vāsanās (“dwellings”) and we believe that our habits are innate or instinctive – when, in fact, they are conditioned.
This is true when things seem to randomly and luckily fall into place. This is also true when are not so fortunate or blessed; when things don’t seem to easily fall into place or when we don’t “randomly” get what we didn’t know we needed. And our physical-mental-emotional response to the so-called “happy accidents” is just as conditioned as our physical-mental-emotional response to things not going our way. We are as much like Pavlov’s dogs as we are like the one-eyed mule observed by the Princes of Serendip. To do something other than salivate at the appearance of certain objects and/or to eat on the other side of the road is “impossible.” But, little changes in the conditioning changes the outcome.
Also, remember that ad about “impossible….”
“Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they’ve been given than to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact. It’s an opinion. Impossible is not a declaration. It’s a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary.
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Impossible is nothing.”
– quoted from a 2004 Adidas ad campaign written by Aimee Lehto (with final tag line credited to Boyd Croyner), often attributed to Muhammad Ali
Sunday’s practice revolved around two stories related to January 23rd and January 24th. They are lessons on doing (rather than not doing) and opportunities for a little svādhyāya (“self-study’). One of the stories was about an “impossible” person who had to deal with unexpected tragedy and “ridiculously inconvenient” situations and expectations. The other was the story of a person, some might consider impossible, who had to deal with an unexpected, ridiculously inconvenient, unplayable piano. As I’ll explain a little (a little later), I encountered both stories serendipitously, but there was also a little bit of synchronicity related to the second story.
Again, I’ll get to the backstory a bit later. For now, consider that the habitual conditioning I mentioned above also applies to our expectations of ourselves and of others. So, when we tell ourselves and/or someone else that something is impossible, it is partially because we have not been conditioned to believe that the thing in question is possible. We haven’t seen any evidence that something can be done and, quite the contrary, maybe we have seen someone else “fail” in their endeavors in the same area. Maybe we ourselves haven’t succeeded… yet; and, therefore have decided to give up.
But, what happens if we don’t give up? What happens if we give our all and then let go of our expectations? What happens if we plan to trust the possibilities and focus on doing what we are able to do, in the present moment?
A version of the January 23rd story was originally posted in 2021. Click here for that philosophical post in it’s entirety.
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“From a practical standpoint then, svadyaya is the process of employing the power of discernment and maintaining a constant awareness of who we are, what we are trying to become, and how the objective world can help us accomplish our goal.”
– commentary on Yoga Sūtra 2.1 from The Practice of the Yoga Sūtra: Sadhana Pada by Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, PhD
The Yoga Sutras offers a detailed explanation of the dysfunctional/afflicted thought patterns that create suffering. Patanjali described those thought patterns as ignorance, the false sense of self, attachment (rooted in pleasure), aversion (which is attachment rooted in pain), and a fear of loss/death. He established ignorance (avidyā) as the root of the other four and stated that this groundwork is established no matter if the ignorance is dormant, attenuated, disjointed, or active. He then broke down the different ways avidyā manifests in the world – which basically goes back to the ways in which we misunderstand the nature of things – and how the other four afflicted thought patterns rise up.
There are examples of how avidyā and the other four dysfunctional/afflicted thought patterns manifest all around us. There are, therefore, also examples of how the sources of our ignorance can be the path towards freedom, fulfillment, and more clarity. One example of this is how some people view those that are not considered “able bodied.” Think about the activist Edward V. Roberts, for example.
“I fell in love, like many people do. We do that as well. And it became ridiculously inconvenient to have my attendant pushing me around in my wheelchair with my girlfriend. It was an extra person that I didn’t need to be more intimate. I learned how to drive a power wheelchair in one day. I was so motivated to learn something that it changed in many ways my perception of my disability and of myself. She jumped on my lap and we rode off into the sunset or to the closest motel.”
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– Ed Roberts (b. 01/23/1939) in a 60 Minutes interview with Harry Reasoner
Known as the “Father of the Independent Living” movement, Mr. Roberts was born January 23,1939. By all accounts, he spent his formative years as a “regular” boy. Then, at the age of fourteen, he contracted polio – this was in 1953, two years before the vaccine ended the polio epidemic. The virus left the active, “sports-loving” teenager paralyzed from the neck down, with mobility only in two fingers and a few toes. It also (temporarily) crushed his spirit. He initially spent most of his days and all of his nights in an 800-pound iron lung. When he wasn’t in the iron lung, he used “frog breathing” – a technique that uses the facial and neck muscles to pump air into the lungs.
Now, if you are someone who has not interacted with someone with a disability, you might think – as Ed Roberts initially thought of himself – that he was a “helpless cripple.” You might, like him and one of his early doctors, back in 1953, think that there was no point to his life. You might think that he couldn’t do yoga; couldn’t get married (and divorced); couldn’t have a child; and definitely couldn’t do anything to change the world. But, if you think any of that – just as he initially thought that – you would be wrong.
“There are very few people even with the most severe disabilities who can’t take control of their own life. The problem is that the people around us don’t expect us to.”
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– Ed Roberts in a 60 Minutes interview with Harry Reasoner
Just to be clear, to my knowledge Ed Roberts didn’t practice yoga. However, he did practice Shotokan karate. Also, it is interesting to note that (a) the glottis (which includes the true vocal chords and the rima glottidis or empty space at the back of the throat) that we engage to practice Ujjayi prāņāyāma, is the same area he would engage to breathe without the iron lung and (b) once he changed his understanding of himself – let go of his “false sense of self” – he was able to change the world.
Even though he could attend school by telephone, Zona Roberts, Ed Roberts’s mother, insisted that he attend school in-person one day a week for a few hours. She also encouraged him to think of himself as a “star” and to advocate for his own needs. So, when he was in danger of not graduating from high school, because he hadn’t completed driver’s education or physical education, he pushed back on those who would limit him.
After graduating from high school, he attended the College of San Mateo and the University of California Berkeley – even though one of the UC Berkeley deans wanted to reject him because someone else had had an unsuccessful bid at college and the dean viewed all people with disabilities as a monolith. At Berkeley, Mr. Roberts pushed to have on-campus housing that would accommodate his needs and, once that was established, pushed the university to admit and provide the dormitory experience to other people with “severe disabilities.” The Cowell Residence Program became a model for universities around the world.
Mr. Roberts and some of the other students in the Cowell Residence Program referred to themselves as the “Rolling Quads.” They were very active in changing people’s perceptions and understandings and, therefore, they were able to change policy and infrastructure. “Curb cuts,” the ramped opening between a sidewalk and street, are one of the changes that resulted from their activism. After Ed Roberts graduated with a Bachelor’s and Master’s in Political Science, he went on to teach at an “alternative college;” to serve as Director of the state organization that had once labeled him too disabled to work; and eventually co-founded the World Institute on Disability (at Berkeley). His activism – including protesting at the San Francisco offices of the Carter Secretary of Health, Education, and Welfare and testifying before Congress – led to the creation of the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA, 1990).
“And I literally went from like 120 pounds to 50 pounds. I also discovered how powerful the mind is, when you make up your mind.”
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– Ed Roberts in a 60 Minutes interview with Harry Reasoner
If I remember correctly, I first dug into Ed Roberts’s story because someone on the internet mentioned him and his birthday. Maybe this was in 2017, when there was a Google Doodle to honor him. Or, maybe I made a note to myself when I saw the Google Doodle and then incorporated it into a class the following year. Either way, I had time to dig in.
Perhaps, since some of my themes are date-related and I do keep an eye out for such things, one might not consider my heightened awareness of Ed Roberts as being overly synchronistic or serendipitous. This is especially true considering that my annual participation in the Kiss My Asana yogathon is one of the many things that predisposes (or conditions) me to pay attention to stories about accessibility. If anything, I could kind of kick myself for not digging into his story sooner.
But, we only know what we know and we don’t know what we don’t know. The odds are pretty high, though, that I would have eventually come across his story. What are the odds, however, that I would encounter the story of Keith Jarrett, Vera Brandes, and the unplayable piano mere days before the anniversary of The Köln Concert, which was performed and recorded on January 24, 1975?
Ok, I know what you’re thinking.
If, like me, someone was creating date-related content, any time someone landed on their media, they’re very likely to come across a timely bit of information. But, what if the content is not date-related? Additionally, what are the odds if the person (in this case me) is late to the proverbial party and just starts randomly picking content? Without even going into the details of my adventures in podcast-listening (or how many I’ve very recently started picking through), let’s just consider the odds of me picking one out of, say, 40 non-date-related episodes and landing on the one that just happens to coincide with an upcoming date.
I have no idea what the odds are, and maybe I haven’t provided enough information, but feel free to comment below if you are a mathematician.
My point is that all of this also happened around the same time that we are all dealing and sometimes battling with change. It happened during a time when the whole world is facing the conflict that can occur when our past and ingrained behaviors, habits, and responses bumps up against the desire for new behaviors, habits, and responses. What are the odds of coming across the historical version of what the comedian Seth Meyers calls, “The Kind of Story We Need Right Now”? What are the odds of coming across the story of a man who did what he considered impossible because of his past experiences, his preconceived notions, and other untenable circumstances?
Keep in mind, this is not only the story of a man who did something he considered “impossible,” it’s also the story of a man who did something that, on a certain level, he didn’t want to do.
You can, as I did, listen to the Cautionary Tales with Tim Harford episode entitled, “Bowie, Jazz and the Unplayable Piano” where ever you get your podcasts. Had I listened to it just a few days sooner, it might have changed the January 8th playlist.
“You always want to make it as good as it can be, but… But when you have problems that you can’t do anything about, one after another, you start forgetting what you’re actually doing, until it’s time. And that’s one of the secrets….”
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– Keith Jarrett in a 2007 interview about his (01/24/1975) Köln Concert
In the 1970’s, 15-year old Vera Brandes started organizing jazz concerts and tours. At around 17, the German teenager started organizing the New Jazz in Cologne concert series. The fifth concert was scheduled for 11:30 PM on January 24, 1975, and it was going to be the first jazz concert at the 1,400-seat Cologne Opera House. The concert would feature a twenty-nine year old jazz pianist named Keith Jarrett, performing improvised solo piano pieces. Yes, that’s right, he was going to make it up as we went along – and the sold out concert would be recorded. (According to last.fm, the tickets were 4 DM [Deutsche Mark] or $5.)
Here’s a few other salient details about the American pianist: He has perfect pitch and garnered some international attention (as a classical pianist) when he was in high school in Pennsylvania. He started playing gigs in Boston while attending Berklee College of Music and moved to New York City after about a year. In the Big Apple, he started making a name for himself, playing with jazz greats like Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers, Jack DeJohnette, and the Charles Lloyd Quartet. By the mid-to-late 1960’s, he was playing and recording with his own trios and that’s around the time that Miles Davis invited him to join his jams (alternating and/or playing with Chick Corea).
Keith Jarrett and his own band of musicians – Charlie Haden, Paul Motian, (eventually) Dewey Redman, and a handful of other similarly accomplished musicians (including Sam Brown) – recorded over a dozen albums for Atlantic Records from 1971 to 1976. In that same time period, one iteration of the quartet recorded an album for Columbia Records; but then the label dropped him – theoretically so they could promote Herbie Hancock. Right around the same time the Columbia-door closed, another two others doors opened: Keith Jarrett and his quartet got a contract with Impulse! Records and he was contacted by Manfred Eicher, a German record producer and co-founder of ECM Records.
ECM stands for “Edition of Contemporary Music” and the label is known for high quality jazz and classic music – and musicians who give the side-eye to labels. It was a great creative dwelling place for musicians like Keith Jarrett and Steve Reich, whose music I have also used in some practices. The professional relationship between Keith Jarrett and Manfred Eicher led to the “European quartet” collaborations, solo piano albums, and, eventually, to that legendary concert in Cologne, Germany.
Here’s another important thing to know about Keith Jarrett: He has a reputation for being very, very particular about concert conditions. He doesn’t like audience distractions, especially when he is improvising, so – at the height of his career – audience members were given cough drops during winter concerts and he would sometimes play in the dark to prevent people from taking pictures. He is known for vocalizing while he plays jazz (but not, notably, when he plays classical music) and reportedly led people in group coughs.
Like other musicians, he is also very particular about the instruments he plays – and this is where we meet “the unplayable piano.”
“KJ: When I was a teenager, my youngest brother had a lot of issues, and didn’t go to school. He couldn’t go outside, so he couldn’t have friends, so he was basically a prisoner in my mother’s house. There was an upright piano there. And occasionally, my brother, knowing zero — meaning really zero — about piano, would work out anger or frustration, which he must have had gobs of, by going to the keyboard and just playing some shit. He didn’t know what notes he was hitting or what would come out. But I realized there were moments that were so good and they came from his ignorance. I’m not sure he even knew they were good moments. But I found myself thinking: how would a pianist ever — how do you approach that if you know the instrument?
DS: How do you find the accidental goodness?”
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– Keith Jarrett in response to David Shenk’s question about having a willingness or eagerness to fail, in “Keith Jarrett, Part II: The Q&A” by David Shenk (published in The Atlantic, October 13, 2009)
Keith Jarrett is known for eschewing electronic instruments and equipment. Obviously, he appreciates the “need” for recording equipment and he has recorded music while playing electronic instruments. But, it’s not his jam – and it’s definitely not the kind of thing he would request for a solo piano concert in an opera house in 1975. No, someone like Keith Jarrett, at that point in his career, for that concert, would request the piano equivalent of a Rolls-Royce. And that’s exactly what he did; he requested a Bösendorfer Model 290 Imperial, also known as the Imperial Bösendorfer or just as the 290.
The 290 is Bösendorfer’s flagship piano. It is an exquisitely beautiful concert grand piano with an equally memorable sound. In fact, it was specifically designed to be grander than any other piano on the market in 1909. And I mean that in every sense of the word grand. It has 97-keys and a full 8-range octave. For 90 years, it was the only concert grand piano of it’s kind. In 1975, it was easily recognizable by any professional pianist… but probably not by random stagehands (who hadn’t had any reason to deal with such a piano) and possibly not by a teenage concert organizer (who also hadn’t had any reason to deal with such a piano).
Keith Jarrett, however, immediately knew that something was off when he arrived at the Cologne Opera House to find a Bösendorfer baby grand on the stage. To make matters worse, he was tired after traveling and not sleeping for two days, his back hurt, and he was suffering from food poisoning. To add insult to injury, the piano was badly out-of-tune and basically broken. Some of the keys and the foot pedals, one of the distinguishing features on the 290, didn’t work properly. It was simply a rehearsal piano or something someone had put in a backstage corner to warm up their hands before the curtain went up. It was too late to find and move a new piano. Even if they could find what had been requested – or something close, like the Bösendorfer (which would have been 5 keys shorter) – it was raining and Vera Brandes was warned that moving such an instrument in that type of weather would make it impossible to tune in time for the concert.
“Don’t play what’s there. Play what’s not there.”
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– Miles Davis
Improvisation – in comedy and in music – is known for things like not breaking the flow (so, not saying “no”); and the concept of “yes, and…;” staying present; and being open to change. But, Keith Jarrett had made up his mind. He said no to that baby grand piano. He declared it categorically “unplayable” and said the concert needed to be canceled. And there’s no indication, anywhere, that he was being a diva. He was just being realistic given his history and his frame of reference. The fact that he was sick and tired just made everything worse.
But the indomitable Vera Brandes had a different history and a different field of possibility. She convinced him that she could find someone to tune (and repair) the piano onstage, which she did. She sent Keith Jarrett and Manfred Eicher to a restaurant to grab a quick bite to eat. In some interviews, Keith Jarrett has said that they didn’t eat much because (a) he wasn’t feeling well, (b) there was a mix-up at the restaurant and their meal was delayed, and (c) they had to get back to the theatre. At some point along the way, they decided to keep the recording engineers – because they were going to get paid no matter what – and record what the musician expected to be a horrible and embarrassing disaster of the first order.
But it wasn’t. It wasn’t not even close.
Instead, the three improvised movements, plus the encore of “Memories of Tomorrow,” became the best selling solo album in jazz history and one of the best-selling piano albums. In the Spring 2019 issue of Daedalus, Dr. Gerald Lyn Early, who has consulted on several Ken Burns documentaries (including Baseball and Jazz), pointed out that Keith Jarrett’s solo concerts changed the sound and people’s understanding of jazz (not to mention, who played it); “…made solo piano playing commercially viable by showing that there was a considerable audience for it[;]” and “…proved that the public was willing to take such records seriously…”
From the very first notes, which sound like the warning tones the audience heard in the lobby before the show, Keith Jarrett carried the audience on a sonorous piano journey unlike anything they had ever heard. The album has been praised by musicians, critics, and publishers alike. It was included in Robert Dimery’s book 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die. Eventually, much to the composers dismay, parts of the composition became movie soundtracks. Many wanted Keith Jarrett to transcribe and publish a score of the concert, which he finally, begrudgingly, agreed to do in 1990. The transcribed score, however, came with a very intentional caveat.
“For instance, on pages 50 and 51 of Part IIa there is no way to obtain, on paper, the real rhythmic sense of this section. There is much more going on on the recording, but this “going on” does not always translate into notes on paper. Many notes are inferred by the rhythmic sense; others depend on the harmonics or attack of the previous note(or notes). So, writing down all the notes would give more of a false view of the sense of this section than selecting some notes. And yet, even this selection cannot reveal the real sense of this section as an improvisation, where listening is what determines the music’s strength.
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So – we are at, let us say, a picture of an improvisation (sort of like a print of a painting). You cannot see the depth in it, only the surface.
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As a result of all of this, I am recommending that any pianist who intends to play THE KÖLN CONCERT use the recording as the final-word reference.
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Good luck!”
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– quoted from the “Preface” to THE KÖLN CONCERT: Original Transcription, Piano by Keith Jarrett
Sunday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.
[NOTE: If it is accessible to you, please consider using the Spotify playlist as it contains the original music referenced in the practice. Even better, if you already have the album!
The original recording is not available on YouTube (in the US) without a “Premium” membership and, after listening to several different “interpretations” – which do not / cannot include the vocalizations – I decided the Fausto Bongelli sounded the closest to the original. Sadly, one movement is missing and so I used a recording by Tomasz Trzcinkinski, who was the first person to record the music using the transcription. There are also now transcriptions for other instruments – which I didn’t sample, even though I think some of them would be lovely. There are also “covers” using electronic instruments, which I’m considering a hard pass (even if it seems contradictory to the theme), out of respect for the composer. ]
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“My bottom walk-away experience that I believe I carry with me every day is that my father never settled for anything and always fought for everything. And he always, always followed his gut, followed his passion, went with it no matter who was against him, and oftentimes there was more people against him than it was for him.
So I’ve always followed my gut and followed my passion. And in so many different speeches, he would always encourage that person to look within themselves, find their passion, follow it. You can’t… You can’t go wrong with your gut. You can’t go wrong with your passion. Don’t ever settle. He never settled. I’ll never settle. I carry that with me every day, and if there’s anything he loved to pass on, it’s just go for it.”
– quoted from “A Day in the Life of Ed Roberts: Lee Roberts Talks About His Father, Ed Roberts” by Lee Roberts
Errata: This post has been updated to more accurately describe the anatomy related to “frog breathing” and the spelling of Tim Harford’s name has been corrected.
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### My Takeaway: Today is tomorrow’s yesterday. If there’s something in your life – in your field of experience – or something in your past that makes certain things seem impossible, in this present moment, then knowing that – understanding why it seems impossible to you, then pick something. Pick some really small thing that you can start doing – or that you can actually do right now – that changes your history moving forward. So that your field of possibility expands. So that tomorrow – maybe not 24 hours from now, maybe not even 48 hours from now, but at some point, what was impossible becomes possible…. Consider that we are doing things today that were considered impossible “yesterday.” ###
Seeking… (the “missing” Wednesday post) January 20, 2022
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Art, Books, Dharma, Donate, Faith, Gratitude, Healing Stories, Health, Hope, Karma, Life, Love, Music, Mysticism, One Hoop, Pain, Philosophy, Poetry, Science, Suffering, Super Heroes, Wisdom, Women, Writing, Yoga.Tags: Deborah Evans Price, Dolly Lama, Dolly Parton, Moderna vaccine, Robbie Williams (yoga), Robin Roberts, Stephen Smith
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Portions of the following were originally posted in 2021. However, this is an expanded and updated version, because…. Well, you’ll see.
This is the post for Wednesday, January 19th. You can request audio recording of Wednesday’s practices via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.]
“Find out who you are and do it on purpose.”
– Dolly Parton
“When I’m inspired, I get excited because I can’t wait to see what I’ll come up with next.”
– Dolly Parton
There are certain puns, specifically homonym puns, that work really well in class but don’t work at all when read. For instance, when you read “the Dolly Lama,” you might think it’s a type-o and that I meant “Llama” – and that I somehow got confused about the animal when talking about the famous cloned sheep. However, when I explain that “Lama” is a term for “teacher” and an honorific specifically used in Tibetan Buddhism things become a little clearer. Hearing it, you might think I’m saying “Dalai Lama,” but, when you read it – and I refer to her as she – there’s no confusion about the identity of this famous teacher.
Born January 19, 1946, Dolly Rebecca Parton is a seeker, a dreamer, a reader, a writer, a producer, an entrepreneur, a shopper, a philanthropist, a healer, and a teacher – although she has referred to herself as “A poor sinful creature.” Over the years, I had somehow forgotten that she was also someone who practiced yoga. You might wonder how I could forget something like that, but in all fairness, the November/December 1984 Yoga Journal article that talked about musicians and actors practicing yoga in Nashville didn’t include a picture of Dolly actually practicing any poses.
If you imagine that for a moment – Dolly in Virabhadrasana II – you’re not likely to forget the image. Especially since she continually proves herself as a warrior and a “Hero Friend.”
“As the two of us stretched and shared for 90 minutes each morning, I’d get the strangest feeling that there were four of us there, two teachers and two students: me teaching Dolly yoga techniques, Dolly teaching me the value of laughter, spontaneity, nonjudgement, trust – and so much more. Then we’d slip out of our roles and slip into meditation, the four of us becoming two, becoming one.”
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– quoted from the Nov/Dec 1984 Yoga Journal article entitled, “Yoga’s Nashville Connection: Well-being and fame co-exist, say these ‘top 10’ hit-makers from country music city.” by Robbie Williams
Reading my list of descriptors, you might think, “Oh, Myra, you left out that she’s a musician, a singer.” But, honestly, when I read about the life of Dolly Parton – the well lived life of the “Dolly Lama” – I feel like her being a singer and a musician are the least interesting things about her. Saying that her music is one of the least interesting things about her does not, in any way, take away or dimension her accomplishments as a musician. Dolly Parton and her fans have assured that nothing can do that!
She has written over 3,000 songs and sold more than 100 million records worldwide. As I update this, she has won eleven Grammys (including a Lifetime Achievement Award) and received 51 Grammy nominations. She has also won ten out of 45 Country Music Awards (CMA) and is one of only seven women to win the CMA’s Entertainer of the Year Award. (Seven, that is, since you don’t count Taylor Swift and Barbara Mandrell twice and the Chicks are counted as a single group.)
Additionally, Dolly has thirteen Academy of Country Music Awards (including Entertainer of the Year); several People’s Choice Awards; at least three American Music Awards; and was inducted into the Grand Ole Opry in 1969, the Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1986, the Country Music Hall of Fame in 1999, and a plethora of other hall of fames – including the Happiness Hall of Fame in 2016. Her influence has also been acknowledged by Ms. Magazine and Time, plus she has stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame and Nashville StarWalk. Oh, and then there’s that statue in her hometown!
While she is not an EGOT (a winner of an Emmy, Grammy, Oscar and Tony), she has been nominated at least once for all four awards. She’s also the focus of a podcast, Dolly Parton’s America, but for anyone thinking she’s just an American Country music star, keep in mind that her biggest audience (170,000 people) was in Scotland.
Also, keep in mind that she’s not done yet! She’s still living and still writing. She’s still innovating… which is why I’ll keep updating.
She’s also still married, which might be a surprise for people who just know a song or two. Dolly Parton married Carl Thomas Dean on May 30, 1966. He’s not much for the spotlight and, last time I checked, had only seen her perform live once, but they’ve made it work for (going on) 56 years… and counting. She has said that he’s very romantic and that it’s their first marriage; then – with her customary twang – explained that it’s also their LAST marriage. And that right there, his romance combined with her humor (and twang), might be part of the reason their marriage works.
“I’m more successful now than I was then, but I still feel like the same girl. I’m just a working girl. I never think of myself as a star because, as somebody once said, ‘A star is nothing but a big ball of gas,’ – and I don’t want to be that.”
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– Dolly Parton’s response when asked how different she was from 1964 when she first arrived in Nashville, in an October 24,2014, billboard article entitled, “Dolly Parton Q & A: The Country Legend on 50 Years in Nashville and Why She Supports Her Gay Fans” by Deborah Evans Price
Another reason behind her successful marriage might be that Dolly Parton has never forgotten where she came from and has a heart that is, metaphysically speaking, bigger than her whole body. In that previously referenced Yoga Journal article from 1984, Robbie Williams noted, “Dolly Parton is very clear on her beliefs, priorities, and loyalties, and she seems to have identified her divine assignment in this lifetime.” In fact, the article goes on to describe signs and encounters that indicated Dolly knew at an early age that she had a great mission. That mission, in her own words: “channeling love energy ‘so I’ll stay happy and loving, and, hopefully, make other people happy, too.'”
Through her Dollywood Foundation, she has raised money and awareness for disaster relief (close to her home in Tennessee and overseas); HIV/AIDS related charities; cancer treatment; the ethical treatment of animals; and bald eagle conservation. She has also donated her time, energy, and considerable talent to these causes. Not to mention the fact that she has used her considerable wealth and clout to create jobs in economically-depressed areas. In 2020, she donated $1 million towards COVID-19 research and encouraged others (if they could afford it) to do the same. A few months later, Vanderbilt University announced that her donation helped fund the research that produced the Moderna vaccine.
Dolly Parton reads about 50 books a year and promotes literacy through her foundation. In fact, one of the biggest ongoing Dollywood Foundation programs is Dolly Parton’s Imagination Library, which gives each enrolled child a book a month, from birth until they reach kindergarten (age 5). As of today (as I update this), 1,930,492 children in the United States, Canada, the United Kingdom, Australia, and the Republic of Ireland have received 172,752,307 books!
Can you imagine the imagination that is driven by so much reading??
Can you imagine how so imagination changes the world?
“It was [ahead of its time]; and it did a lot of good. But, it evidently didn’t do enough good because we’re going to always have the same problems in the workplace with women and men….and there’s still work to be done. I still believe that women should get paid equal and should be treated with respect. I’m all about that, you know, and I don’t get out and have to preach it or march in the streets, I write about it.”
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– Dolly Parton talking about the importance of the movie 9 to 5, in a 2019 ABC News Special entitled “Dolly Parton: Here She Comes Again!” with Robin Roberts
It is Dolly Parton’s imagination and hard work that have driven her to create so much wonder, beauty, and fun in the world. In addition to everything else – including helping to raise several of her 11 siblings (she is the fourth of 12) – Dolly Parton has written eight books, including her first novel and a cookbook; appeared in eight films; and created a theme park, a water park, multiple entertainment centers, and a production company. That novel (Run, Rose, Run), which was co-written with James Patterson and will be released on March 7, 2022, has it’s own soundtrack – consisting of 12 original songs by Dolly Parton.
“We cannot direct the wind, but we can adjust the sails.”
*
– Dolly Parton
*
“If you don’t like the road you’re walking, start paving another one.”
*
– Dolly Parton
Eleven years ago, I was blogging as I practiced for a Yoga Journal challenge for the new year and I mentioned celebrating the Dolly Lama’s birthday, as I do. In that 2011 post, I admitted, “I can’t exactly call myself an uber-fan when it comes to Dolly Parton, but I like her and I can’t imagine being in a room with her for two seconds and not smiling. I also can’t imagine being a room with her for two minutes and not laughing. Plus, she’s inspiring. She is unapologetic about where she comes from, what she looks like, or how she sounds. There’s a lesson in that. She believes in having fun and being passionate about something. There’s a lesson in that. She’s also a lesson in giving and in looking within for the answers we seek. That last part is key, because (again) we are our own ultimate teacher. We just have to take the time to do a little self-study.”
I stand (and stan) by all of that. (Although, in hindsight, maybe I’m more of a fan than I thought. But, honestly, it’s hard not to be.)
Given all of the above – not to mention the fact that I’ve left some things out – you may be thinking, “What hasn’t Dolly Parton done?” Well, glad you asked. She has never posed nude for Playboy (or anybody else) – despite being asked repeatedly. She did, however, appear on the October 1978 cover… completely covered by a Playboy bunny outfit.
A bunny outfit that recently reappeared for Carl Dean’s birthday!
She has also, as I previously alluded, had a cloned sheep named in her honor. Dolly, because it was created using the breast tissue of an adult sheep.
“You’d be surprised how much it costs to look this cheap!”
*
– Dolly Parton
*
“People say, ‘How you stay looking so young?’ I say, ‘Well, good lighting, good doctors, and good makeup.’”
*
– Dolly Parton in a February 2019 BBC “Newsnight” interview with Stephen Smith
Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “01192021 The Dolly Lama’]
NOTE: The playlists are slightly different, because the YouTube playlists includes some additional videos “after the practice” of songs included in the practice portion of the playlist.
“The way I see it, if you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain.”
*
– Dolly Parton
*
“When the big things in your life get messy, you need to get up and get out. I make a point to appreciate all the little things in my life. I go out and smell the air after a good, hard rain. I re-read passages from my favorite books. I hold the little treasures that somebody special gave me. These small actions help remind me that there are so many great, glorious pieces of good in the world.”
*
– quoted from Dream On: Celebrate the Dreamer in You by Dolly Parton
“If you see someone without a smile today, give ’em yours.”
*
– Dolly Parton
*
### DREAM ON, DREAMER ###
Seeking… (mostly the music) January 19, 2022
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in "Impossible" People, Books, Healing Stories, Hope, Karma Yoga, Life, Music, One Hoop, Pain, Philosophy, Suffering, Super Heroes, Wisdom, Women, Writing, Yoga.Tags: Dolly Lama, Dolly Parton
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“When the big things in your life get messy, you need to get up and get out. I make a point to appreciate all the little things in my life. I go out and smell the air after a good, hard rain. I re-read passages from my favorite books. I hold the little treasures that somebody special gave me. These small actions help remind me that there are so many great, glorious pieces of good in the world.”
*
– quoted from Dream On: Celebrate the Dreamer in You by Dolly Parton
Please join me today (Wednesday, January 19th) 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 or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “01192021The Dolly Lama”]
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, playlists, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). If you don’t mind me knowing your donation amount you can also donate to me directly. Donations to Common Ground are tax deductible; class purchases and donations directly to me are not necessarily deductible.)
“If you see someone without a smile today, give ’em yours.”
*
– Dolly Parton
*
### 
###
Searching…. (the “missing” Tuesday post w/a little extra) January 19, 2022
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in 9-Day Challenge, Art, Books, Healing Stories, Life, Love, Mathematics, Meditation, Movies, Music, One Hoop, Philosophy, Poetry, Vairagya, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: A. A. Milne, Christopher Robin Milne, E. H. Shephard, H. G. Wells, John Donovan, Maurice Sendak, Robert Cormier, Zena Sutherland
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This is the “missing” post for Tuesday, January 18th. You can request an audio recording of the practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.
Check out the “Class Schedules” calendar for upcoming classes.)
“As soon as Rabbit was out of sight, Pooh remembered that he had forgotten to ask who Small was, and whether he was the sort of friend-and-relation who settled on one’s nose, or the sort who got trodden on by mistake, and as it was Too Late Now, he thought he would begin the Hunt by looking for Piglet, and asking him what they were looking for before he looked for it.”
*
– quoted from “Chapter Three, In Which – A Search is Organdized, and Piglet Nearly Meets the Heffalump Again” in The House at Pooh Corner by Alan Alexander Milne, with decorations by Ernest Howard Shephard
Similar to The House at Pooh Corner (published in 1928), this post begins with an end note; but, let’s not call it that. Let’s call it a Side Note. See, when I’ve used quotes in class in the past, I don’t always cite chapter and verse. That’s not the point of the practice. However, now that I’m blogging more, recording classes, and posting a video or two, I feel that due diligence is required. Ergo, I make an effort to search for precise sources. It takes some time and effort, but the internet makes things easier than when I was doing such research in school and it’s super nice when I actually have hard copies (and/or paperback or electronic copies) of the source material. However, things can get complicated when something takes on a life of it’s own – outside of its original incarnation. This is even more true when that something is beloved… and the Walt Disney Company is involved.
Because sometimes people are quoting Disney productions, but citing the author.
“’It means just going along, listening to all the things that you can’t hear and not bothering.’”
*
– Christopher Robin defining “Doing Nothing” to Winnie the Pooh in “Chapter Ten, In Which – Christopher Robin and Pooh Come to an Enchanted Place, and We Leave Them There” of The House at Pooh Corner by Alan Alexander Milne, with decorations by Ernest Howard Shephard
Many books begin with a prologue or an introduction, however, as I already mentioned The House at Pooh is different from most books. It begins with a “Contradiction,” which the author explained was the opposite of an “Introduction.” Some of us might think of it as an epilogue, which it was… and also wasn’t, because it was coming at the beginning of the book rather than at the end. But, it was the end of the series – that was never intended to be a series. Of course, the author, A. A. Milne, understood the differences and the nuances of the words; that’s why he picked the one’s he picked.
Born Alan Alexander Milne on January 18, 1882, the famous children’s book author was the youngest of three boys that grew up in a household dedicated to learning. His father, John Vine Milne, ran Henley House School, a private school for boys that famously boasted teachers like H. G. Wells (who taught science there for one year). A. A. Milne reportedly taught himself to read at age two; attended Westminster School in London and Trinity College in Cambridge. It was at the latter that he edited and wrote (with his brother Kenneth) for The Granta, the student magazine now known simply as Granta. It was also at Trinity that he decided to pursue writing as a career even though he was graduating with a degree in mathematics. He started working for the humor magazine Punch not long after he graduated.
Then World War I broke out and – even though Mr. Milne didn’t believe in war – he served as an officer for at least five years, first as a signaling operator and then (after recuperating from an illness that sent him home) as a writer of military propaganda. He finished his service as a lieutenant and started writing articles and books denouncing war. He also started writing plays and poetry, some which appeared in Punch magazine. He had married Dorothy “Daphne” de Sélincourt just before the war and, within a year of his discharge, they had their son, Christopher Robin.
Mr. Milne was in the habit of making up little verses for his son, including one called “Teddy Bear,” which appeared in Punch when Christopher Robin was three years old. About five years after their son was born, the Milnes bought and moved to their country home in East Sussex. The woods around their East Sussex home – as well as Christopher Robin, his toys, and the games they played – became the inspiration for more poems and, ultimately, the stories about Winnie the Pooh, Christopher Robin, and all their friends. Those stories, however, were little more than divertissements to A. A. Milne and he was a little astounded (and latter appalled) that those little entertainments were earning more accolades than for his plays, articles, and adult novels. Later, he was also concerned by how all the attention affected his still young son – who, it must be said, kind of hated the attention.
“Every child has his Pooh, but one would think it odd if every man still kept his Pooh to remind him of his childhood. But my Pooh is different, you say: he is the Pooh. No, this only makes him different to you. My toys were and are to me no more than yours were and are to you, not different to me. I do not love them more because they are known to children in Australia or Japan. Fame has nothing to do with love.”
*
– quoted from “12. The Toys” in The Enchanted Places by Christopher Milne
There are a lot of reasons why people still love the characters created by A. A. Milne, but why are Christopher Robin, Pooh, Piglet, Owl, Eyeore, Rabbit, Kanga, Roo, Tigger, the Heffalump, and (even) Small more beloved than any of his other characters? We can, of course, point to the loveliness of an ideal childhood and those lovely “decorations” by E. H. Shephard. Of course, there is also the fact that the books are all about friendship. Then, too, there is the fact that we all know people like all of the characters. In fact, if we take a moment to turn inward, we may even recognize ourselves as one of the characters. Finally, there is just so much wisdom in the books. Yes, we can say it is wisdom for children; however, the best advice we receive as children, serves us as adults.
The children’s poems and stories by A. A. Milne remind us to slow down, savor our “honey” and our friends, and to soak up the moment. There are stories that remind us to play a little (Pooh Sticks); keep in touch (even when we are physically far apart); that sometimes we need a little help from our friends (in order to get out of tight situations); and that there is something to be said for being in the present moment. In fact, I think of the poem “Halfway Down” as a meditation on the liminal, or “threshold” moment that is this present moment.
“Halfway Down” is the thirty-fifth poem in When We Were Very Young, first published in 1924. It appears just a few pages before the aforementioned “Teddy Bear” and has been turned into a song sung be people as different as Robin the Frog (Kermit’s nephew) and Amy Lee. The children’s book reviewer Zena Sutherland called the poem a “juvenile meditation” – which was a ringing endorsement from an expert on children’s literature who would go on to teach “Children’s Literature” and “Literature for Young Adults” at the University of Chicago Graduate Library School; serve on the committees that award the Newbery and Cadecutt Awards, as well as the Scott O’Dell Award for Historical Fiction; and highlight the emotional benefits of books by Maurice Sendak, John Donovan, and Robert Cormier. She was the expert, but in my humble opinion, it is a great meditation for anyone, regardless of age.
“I’m not at the bottom,
I’m not at the top;
So this is the stair
Where
I always
Stop.
*
Halfway up the stairs
Isn’t up
And isn’t down.
It isn’t in the nursery,
It isn’t in the town.
And all sorts of funny thoughts
Run round my head:”
*
– quoted (from halfway down) the poem “Halfway Down” by Alan Alexander Milne, with decorations by Ernest Howard Shephard
In some ways, The House at Pooh Corner was like that stair “halfway down the stairs.” It marked a transition. As A. A. Milne explained at the beginning, Christopher Robin and his friends needed no introductions – the readers already knew and loved them. What he also explained was that The House at Pooh Corner was a goodbye – he just didn’t tell his young readers why. And, in the end, maybe the why didn’t matter. Because…
“…they went off together. But wherever they go, and whatever happens to them on the way, in that enchanted place on the top of the Forest, a little boy and his Bear will always be playing.”
*
– quoted from “Chapter Ten, In Which – Christopher Robin and Pooh Come to an Enchanted Place, and We Leave Them There” of The House at Pooh Corner by Alan Alexander Milne, with decorations by Ernest Howard Shephard
Tuesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “08212021 An Afternoon of Just Knowing”]
Feel free to check out this 2016 post to discover someone who likes to explore enchanted places.
“Christopher Robin came down from the Forest to the bridge, feeling all sunny and careless, and just as if twice nineteen didn’t matter a bit, as it didn’t on such a happy afternoon, and he thought if he stood on the bottom rail of the bridge, and leant over, and watched the river slipping slowly away beneath him, then he would suddenly know everything there was to be known, and he would be able to tell Pooh, who wasn’t quite sure of it. But when he got to the bridge and saw all the animals there, then he knew that it wasn’t that kind of afternoon, but the other kind, when you wanted to do something.”
*
– quoted from “Chapter Six, In Which – Pooh Invents a New Game and Eeyore Joins In” of The House at Pooh Corner by Alan Alexander Milne, with decorations by Ernest Howard Shephard
Searching for Small and little things? (Part of the Nine Days series)
### “Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day. ~ A. A. M. ###
Vivekananda & A Simple Practice January 13, 2022
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Abhyasa, Bhakti, Books, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Dharma, Faith, Healing Stories, Hope, Karma Yoga, Life, Mysticism, One Hoop, Peace, Philosophy, Religion, Suffering, Swami Vivekananda, Vairagya, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: 8 Limbs of Yoga Philosophy, A. R. Rahman, Chicago World's Fair, Khatija Rahman, Raheema Rahman, Ramakrishna, Scott Blossom, Swami Vivekananda, U2, World's Parliament of Religions, Yoga Sutra, yoga sutra 2.18, Yoga Sutra 2.28
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This is the “missing” post for Wednesday, January 12th. You can request an audio recording of Tuesday’s practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.)
Check out the “Class Schedules” calendar for upcoming classes.
“…and he came out of it, and began to laugh, when he realised what a hideous dream he had had — he, the king of the gods, to have become a pig, and to think that that pig-life was the only life! Not only so, but to have wanted the whole universe to come into the pig-life!”
*
– commentary on Yoga Sūtra 2.18 from Raja Yoga by Swami Vivekananda
Yoga is a simple practice. It’s not easy, but it is simple. Anyone can do it, if they really want to do it (and are willing to figure out the method of practice that is best for them). The first two limbs of the 8-limb philosophy make up an ethical component (similar to commandments and precepts found in other systems). The next two limbs make up the physical practice, which are a way to test out the ethics and also prepare for the higher levels of practice. The fifth limb is the segue between the first half of the practice and the second half and the last three limbs make up the meditation aspect of the practice.
See? Simple.
Yet, as simple as the practice is, it is not one-dimensional. It’s not even two-dimensional. This practice has a lot of dimensions – and sometimes it seems the deeper we go the more layers we find.
On a very basic level, it’s a physical-mental practice. Even people who say that it’s just an exercise, have to admit that you can’t exercise your body without using your mind. By that same token, we are sensational beings, which means there is an emotional component to anything that engages our minds and bodies – especially when it deliberately engages the mind-body. The works of the ancient yogis (and even the words of the modern yogis) tell us that our energy/spirit is engaged in the practice; but, let’s say you don’t want to get into that. Let’s say you just want to keep it as basic as possible. Let’s just start with the mind-body.
Although I started this post with a quote about a pig, I want you to think about a frog. Funny thing, as we know from the Yoga Sūtras, there’s a lot of space – a lot of ether – between you sensing a frog (or even the word “frog”) and your brain/mind-intellect communicating that there’s a frog. If we were to concentrate-focus-meditate on the idea of a frog, then we also have to acknowledge that there’s the word (or the thing), the meaning of the word (and the thing), plus the essence of the word (and the thing). We also have to acknowledge, and this again comes up in the sūtras, that at this given moment we are not all thinking about and/or visualizing the same frog.
Even if we only think in terms of the physical practice of yoga, there are lots of different asanas called “frog pose.” If a group is comprised of a people who all practice with the same teacher(s), who inevitable teach(es) the same set of poses and only one of them is “Frog Pose,” the likelihood that people will start moving into the same pose when it is suggested is fairly probable. However, the probability of the group immediately thinking about the same “frog pose” diminishes as people’s experience increases. I’ve actually seen this happen in a class in real time and it can cause some confusion and frustration. Sometimes people just laugh about the confusion and let the frustration go; it’s just a random pose after all. No big deal. But, imagine if people in the group thought it was a really big deal. Imagine if people were really attached to getting it “right.”
Spoiler Alert: Most of you already got it “wrong.”
“Now comes the practical knowledge. What we have just been speaking about is much higher. It is away above our heads, but it is the ideal. It is first necessary to obtain physical and mental control. Then the realization will become steady in that ideal. The ideal being known, what remains is to practice the method of reaching it.”
*
– commentary on Yoga Sūtra 2.28 from Raja Yoga by Swami Vivekananda
Born Narendranath Datta, on January 12,1863, Swami Vivekananda was one of nine children born into a relatively wealthy and prestigious Bengali Kayastha family. He was known as “Narendra” or “Naren” until sometime after he took his formal monastic vows at the age of 23 (on Christmas Eve 1886). Similar to Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, there were elders in the future swami’s family (particularly his grandfather) and he developed an interest in Indian philosophy at an early age. His interest was encouraged by his father, Vishwantha Datta, who was a lawyer and novelist, and his mother, Bhubaneswari Devi, who was a devout housewife. He had a quick mind, a phenomenal memory, and he grew up meditating to images of Shiva, Rama, Sita, and Hanuman; however, it also seems like he was very much a little kid who did little kid things.
He received high marks in school and earned a Bachelor of Arts in 1884, after studying everything from religion, philosophy, history, social science, fine arts, and literature to classical Indian music and Western logic and philosophy. I’m not sure which way his life would have gone were it not for a series of serendipitous incidences. First, he attended a lecture about William Wordsworth’s 1814 poem “The Excursion: being a portion of The Recluse, a poem,” which chronicles the life of man whose personal grief and social disillusionment causes his to choose isolation over society. In the ensuing discussion, the professor suggested that the students should visit with a mystic in order to better understand the state of a “trance.”
That mystic was Ramakrishna Paramahamsa (Gadadhar Chattopadhyaya). The two met around 1881, and while Swami Vivekananda didn’t immediately become a formal student – in fact, he disagreed with much of what Ramakrishna was teaching – he stuck around, listening to lectures and engaging in conversation. When his father died in 1884, Swami Vivekananda become a devoted and noted disciple, formally becoming a member of a newly-formed monastic order shortly before Ramakrishna’s death in 1886. By 1888, he was living the life of a “wandering monk,” surviving and traveling courtesy of the generosity of others and sharing Ramakrishna’s teachings throughout India.
“And the Yogi shows how, by junction with nature, and identifying itself with the mind and the world, the Purusha thinks itself miserable. Then the Yogi goes on to show you that the way out is through experience. You have to get all this experience, but finish it quickly. We have placed ourselves in this net, and will have to get out. We have got ourselves caught in the trap, and we will have to work out our freedom…. [Experience] leads, step by step, to that state where all things become small, and the Purusha so great that the whole universe seems as a drop in the ocean and falls off by its own nothingness. We have to go through different experiences, but let us never forget the ideal.”
*
– commentary on Yoga Sūtra 2.18 from Raja Yoga by Swami Vivekananda
As he was teaching, Swami Vivekananda was also learning. He learned about the poor and the suffering. He learned about the lived experiences of people whose fates and faiths were very different from his own. Ultimately, he was selected to share Indian philosophy with people outside of India. Beginning in the summer of 1893, he traveled to Japan, China, and Canada before reaching the United States. His primary destination in the United States was Chicago, which was hosting the World’s Fair that September. Hundreds of formal meetings, conferences, and congresses were organized in association with the fair, including the World’s Parliament of Religions – which was the largest of the associated gatherings and the first organized interfaith gathering. In addition to delegates sharing messages from spiritual leaders like the Japanese Buddhist reformer and priest Kiyozawa Manshi (Pure Land), there were representatives from new religious movements (NRM) and some of the oldest religious movements. Representatives included the Virchand Gandhi (Jain), Anagarika Dharmapala (“Southern Buddhism,” now known as Theraveda Buddhism), Soyen Shaku (Zen Buddhism), G. Bonet Maury (a Christian, Protestant, historian), Septimus J. Hanna (Christian Science), Mohammed Alexander Russell Webb (an American covert to Islam), and Pratap Chandra Majumdar (Brahmo Samaj, an aspect of Brahmoism). William Quan Judge and Annie Besant represented the Theosophical Society; Pung Quang Yu represented several Chinese religions; and the American Presbyterian missionary Henry Harris Jessup mentioned the publicly discussed the Baháʼí Faith.
Then there was the young Swami Vivekananda, who almost didn’t make the roster because he didn’t have credentials from a bona fide organization. After contacting a Harvard professor and receiving his recommendations, the 30-year old monk was allowed to speak about Hinduism and two of the six Indian philosophies: Vedanta and Yoga. By all accounts, he was a dynamic and engaging speaker. His first speech was during the opening ceremonies on September 11, 1893, and his first words, “Sisters and brothers of America,” were reportedly met with a 2-minute standing ovation from the thousands of attendees.
Once the applause died out, he said, “It fills my heart with joy unspeakable to rise in response to the warm and cordial welcome which you have given us. I thank you in the name of the most ancient order of monks in the world; I thank you in the name of the mother of religions; and I thank you in the name of millions and millions of Hindu people of all classes and sects.” He then went on to acknowledge various religious heritages, quote from a hymn that he said, “I remember to have repeated from my earliest boyhood, which is every day repeated by millions of human beings;” quoted from the Bhagavad Gita; and condemned “Sectarianism, bigotry, and its horrible descendant, fanaticism” and the effects of those hateful expressions.
“Great is the tenacity with which man clings to the senses. Yet, however substantial he may think the external world in which he lives and moves, there comes a time in the lives of individuals and of races when, involuntarily, they ask, ‘Is this real?’ To the person who never finds a moment to question the credentials of his senses, whose every moment is occupied with some sort of sense-enjoyment — even to him death comes, and he also is compelled to ask, ‘Is this real?’ Religion begins with this question and ends with its answer. Even in the remote past, where recorded history cannot help us, in the mysterious light of mythology, back in the dim twilight of civilisation, we find the same question was asked, ‘What becomes of this? What is real?’”
*
– from “The Real Nature of Man” speech, delivered in London and published in The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda (Volume 2, Jnana-Yoga) by Swami Vivekananda
Over the course of the conference, which ended on September 27th, Swami Vivekananda continued to speak (in public and in private sessions) about religions and philosophies prominent in India. His speeches had two common threads: universality and religious tolerance. That two-fold theme underscored the ironic fact that all the different religions had a similar goal – a deeper, richer relationship with the Divine or God (whatever that means to you at this moment – and yet, the different ways people pursued (and continue to pursue) their ultimate goal created strife, suffering, and wars. In other words, people’s methods were (and are) sometimes antithetical to their beliefs and therefore are obstacles along the path.
Swami Vivekananda’s lectures were well received by other religious leaders, lay attendees, and journalists. In fact, he and his words were so well received he was invited to tour the United States and then the United Kingdom. For years, he toured the U. S. and the United Kingdom, giving lectures and offering demonstrations. Just as before, Swami Vivekananda’s experiences slightly changed his focus and the way that he taught the lessons of his elders. He began to focus his efforts on establishing Vedanta centers that would continue and extend the legacy of his spiritual elders.
He founded the Vedanta Society of New York in 1894; the Ramakrishna Mission in Calcutta (1897), which included the Ramakrishna Math; two monasteries; two journals; and an English language monthly magazine. He also wrote several books, including Raja Yoga (which includes translation and commentary of Patanjali’s Yoga Sūtras intended for a Western audience), and translated some of the work that had inspired him, including the Yoga Sūtras and De Imitatione Christi (The Imitation of Christ), a Christian devotional by the medieval canon Thomas à Kempis. Swami Vivekananda inspired others live with an awareness of their interconnectedness. He also inspired others to teach and to practice their beliefs through action (karma yoga). He is considered a patriotic saint in India and, since it was declared so in 1984, his birthday is celebrated as “National Youth Day” in India. This year’s theme is “It’s all in the mind,” which like previous themes is based on Swami Vivekananda’s teachings.
“Practiced regularly, [Frog or Child’s Pose] also improves your breathing and your elimination…. The quality of our elimination is directly tied to the quality of our respiration. And, so, tension in the low abdomen and back can directly impact the quality of our ability to eliminate regularly.”
*
– Scott Blossom, explaining detoxification benefits of Mandukāsana*
Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.
*NOTE: The Wednesday practice included several (but not all) of the “Frog Poses” that we have done over the years. And none of those were originally mentioned “frog,” which appeared in a story Swami Vivekananda shared on September 15, 1893 at the World’s Parliament of Religions, as follows:
“I will tell you a little story. You have heard the eloquent speaker who has just finished say, ‘Let us cease from abusing each other,’ and he was very sorry that there should be always so much variance.
But I think I should tell you a story which would illustrate the cause of this variance. A frog lived in a well. It had lived there for a long time. It was born there and brought up there, and yet was a little, small frog. Of course the evolutionists were not there then to tell us whether the frog lost its eyes or not, but, for our story’s sake, we must take it for granted that it had its eyes, and that it every day cleansed the water of all the worms and bacilli that lived in it with an energy that would do credit to our modern bacteriologists. In this way it went on and became a little sleek and fat. Well, one day another frog that lived in the sea came and fell into the well.
‘Where are you from?’
‘I am from the sea.’
‘The sea! How big is that? Is it as big as my well?’ and he took a leap from one side of the well to the other.
‘My friend,’ said the frog of the sea, ‘how do you compare the sea with your little well?’
Then the frog took another leap and asked, ‘Is your sea so big?’
‘What nonsense you speak, to compare the sea with your well!’
‘Well, then,’ said the frog of the well, ‘nothing can be bigger than my well; there can be nothing bigger than this; this fellow is a liar, so turn him out.’
That has been the difficulty all the while.
I am a Hindu. I am sitting in my own little well and thinking that the whole world is my little well. The Christian sits in his little well and thinks the whole world is his well. The Mohammedan sits in his little well and thinks that is the whole world. I have to thank you of America for the great attempt you are making to break down the barriers of this little world of ours, and hope that, in the future, the Lord will help you to accomplish your purpose.”
A Joyful Practice 