[“Happy Diwali!” to anyone celebrating! May you be healthy, wealthy, and wise!]
[The 75-minute Common Ground Meditation Center practice, in the spirit of generosity (“dana”), is freely given and freely received. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of Monday’s practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
“Yama said: ‘The good is one thing; the pleasant, another. Both of these, serving different needs, bind a man. It goes well with him who, of the two, takes the good; but he who chooses the pleasant misses the end.’
‘Both the good and the pleasant present themselves to a man. The calm soul examines them well and discriminates. Yea, he prefers the good to the pleasant; but the fool chooses the pleasant out of greed and avarice.’”
— quoted from Katha Upanishad (Part I – Chapter II, Verses 1-2) translated by Swami Nikhilananda
The final day of Diwali, the 5-day festival of light celebrated throughout India, Southeast Asia, and the diaspora, is a day devoted to siblings — specifically the bond between sisters and brothers. Sisters, who celebrate today in this way, may give a puja (“offering” and prayers) on behalf of their brothers — that their brothers may enjoy a long, healthy, and happy life — and then will host a dinner in honor of their brothers. But, it’s not just a matter of creating a feast with their brothers’ favorite food. No, in some traditions, a sister will hand feed their brothers. (Yet another tradition when people will have to be creative in order to observe this year.)
I have two brothers, with whom I have very different relationships, and while I never wish either of them harm, it is sometimes a lot easier to wish the best for the one that is my favorite. (To be fair, my favorite is also my other brother’s favorite sibling). But, having “a favorite” kind of flies in the face of much of Yoga and Buddhist philosophy. It creates and perpetuates suffering. While others with siblings might say, “Yeah, but it’s human,” my relationships with my brothers makes me wonder how this final day of Diwali became associated with siblings. What, after all, do brothers and sisters have to do with light symbolically overcoming anything?
“Yama said: ‘The goal which all the Vedas declare, which all austerities aim at and which men desire when they lead the life of continence, I will tell you briefly: it is Om.’”
— quoted from Katha Upanishad (Part I – Chapter II, Verse 15) translated by Swami Nikhilananda
There are actually a couple of different brother-sister stories associated with this final day of Diwali. One, in particular, resonates with me because the brother and sister have a difference in opinion that causes a great deal of strife. While I can’t really relate to the subject of their argument, I can definitely relate to the feeling of being at odds with one’s brother.
According to the legends, Yami (also known as Yamuna) and Yama are twins, born to Sūrya (the Sun) and his wife Sandhya. If, like me, you’re familiar with another set of twins in Indian mythology — Nara and Nārāyaņa, who are identical except that one is in a physical-corporal body and one is in a spiritual-energetic body — then you might be expecting a twist. Of course, in the case of Yami and Yama the twist is a doozy. You see, in the 10th hymn in the 10th book of the Rigveda the twins have a falling out because Yami wants to marry her brother, but Yama points out that not only is incest forbidden — there are health-related reasons behind it being forbidden.
Health and well-being are underlying elements throughout Diwali. Part of the focus on health comes from the fact that Lakşmī, the goddess of joy, prosperity, and wealth, is also the goddess of fertility. More importantly, however, she shares a birthday — the first day of Diwali — with Dhanvantari, the god of medicine (Aryuveda). In my mind, the fact that they both rise from the churning of the primordial “Ocean of Milk” on Dhanteras makes them energetic siblings (at the very least).
“Within the Waters – Soma thus hath told me-dwell all balms that heal, And Agni, he who blesseth all. O Waters, teem with medicine to keep my body safe from harm, So that I long may see the Sun. Whatever sin is found in me, whatever evil I have wrought, If I have lied or falsely sworn, Waters, remove it far from me. The Waters I this day have sought, and to their moisture have we come: O Agni, rich in milk, come thou, and with thy splendour cover me.”
— quoted from Rigveda (Book 10, Hymn 9. 6-9) translated by Ralph T. H. Griffith
Remember, also, that Yama is “Death” and appears in an earlier Diwali story about a young prince and his very clever wife. Even though “Death” is conquered in that story — and even though 2020 is a year where I can’t blame anyone for vilifying death — Yama is not always portrayed as evil incarnate. Everything changes, everything ends. The problem is not the end — as it is also a beginning; the problem is how we deal with the end of something. How we let go of something that isn’t going our way or ends before we are ready for it to end.
According to the legend, Yama is the first mortal to die and so becomes the ruler of death (as well as dharma, South, and the underworld). His twin, Yami, does not handle his death well. In fact, she seems to be on a never ending downward spiral of grief, because (to her) her brother (and the love of her life) just died. At this point in the story, night (darkness) is created so that Yami can experience the passage of time and, therefore, the healing that comes from the passage of time.
“Yes I understand That every life must end As we sit alone I know someday we must go
Oh, I’m a lucky man To count on both hands The ones I love Some folks just have one Yeah, others they got none
Stay with me Let’s just breathe”
— quoted from “Just Breathe” by Pearl Jam
There is no playlist for the Common Ground practices.
2024 UPDATE: There is a 2023 playlist available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “Diwali (Day 5) 2023”]
“‘The knowing Self is not born; It does not die. It has not sprung from anything; nothing has sprung from It. Birthless, eternal, everlasting and ancient, It is not killed when the body is killed.’
‘Atman, smaller than the small, greater than the great, is hidden in the hearts of all living creatures. A man who is free from desires beholds the majesty of the Self through tranquility of the senses and the mind and becomes free from grief.’”
— quoted from Katha Upanishad (Part I – Chapter II, Verses 18 & 20) translated by Swami Nikhilananda
11/02/2024 Updated with 2023 playlist, revised formatting, and tags/categories.
[My apologies for not sorting out today’s technical difficulties in time to post before the class. I believe I’ve worked some of it out so that tomorrow is better.
You can request an audio recording of Saturday’s practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible, class purchases are not necessarily deductible.)
“History says, Don’t hope On this side of the grave, But then, once in a lifetime The longed-for tidal wave Of justice can rise up And hope and history rhyme.”
– The Greek Chorus in The Cure at Troy by Seamus Heaney
Like some of you – and like the Irish poet, playwright, translator, and 1995 Nobel Laureate in Literature Seamus Heaney – I like to know the origins of things. We can call them the beginnings, the foundations, the roots… But, for the sake of today’s practice, let’s call them the seats of words.
As some of you know, I’ve studied bits and pieces of a variety of languages, including a little Irish Gaelic years and years and years ago. However, my teacher Sean was from Galway (nowhere near the province of Ulster) and I can’t honestly say that I ever had anything close to the wealth of knowledge and vocabulary contained inside of his self’s own head (meaning the brain of either Sean or Seamus Heaney). So, I have to give credit to Darach Ó Séaghdha for pointing out that in Ulster Irish (which has more common threads with several Scottish dialects than what I learned), the words “hope” and “trust” can be translated to dóchas “(pronounced duh, hass…),” while the word for “heritage” or ancestral claim (i.e., history) is dúchas “(pronounced doo, hass….).” Even if you only speak one language and can’t tell an Irish accent from an Australian accent (or a Brooklyn accent from a New Orleans accent), you can see how the words of the Greek Chorus in Heaney’s play The Cure At Troy (a translation of Philoctetes by Sophocles) rhyme… in Ulster Irish.
dóchas / dúchas / dúchas / dóchas
But, in English… not so much.
True story, as if they are in a twisted version of the Buddha’s poisoned arrow parable, the Greek Chorus in the play is giving advice to an archer (Philoctetes) who has been bitten by a poisoned snake. Philoctetes must decide if he will use his skill (not to mention his magic bow) to help Odysseus win the Trojan War – or if he’s going to continue suffering, caterwauling, and blaming other people for his state. Just like the person in the Buddha’s story, Philoctetes is firmly established in his pain, suffering, and righteous indignation. Included in his deliberations, however, is the knowledge that he will be healed if he goes to Troy. The message from the Greek Chorus is clear: When you are given the means and opportunity to do something that will make a difference, do it!
“I do not pretend to understand the moral universe. The arc is a long one. My eye reaches but little ways. I cannot calculate the curve and complete the figure by experience of sight. I can divine it by conscience. And from what I see I am sure it bends toward justice.”
– quoted from an 1853 sermon by Theodore Parker
Seamus Heaney’s translation includes allusion to political problems around 1990 and is often quoted by politicians and other leaders faced with troubling times. It’s a reminder that, to paraphrase Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. (who was paraphrasing Theodore Parker), we have to do something to keep the arc of the moral universe bending towards justice.
Similarly, U2’s song “Peace on Earth,” which includes a reference to the Greek Chorus message, is a reminder of what happens when we do nothing – or do the wrong thing. The song is about a bombing that took place August 15, 1998 in Omagh, Northern Ireland (in Ulster province). The bombing injured 220 people and killed 29 (including children – some of whom are mentioned in the song, a couple of Spanish tourists, and a 30-year old woman, Avril Monaghan, who was pregnant with twins). Part of the reason Bono sings, “But hope and history won’t rhyme” is because of what people didn’t do when given the chance. Despite telephone warnings intended to alert officials about the bombing – with the appropriate code words for authentication, cause that’s a thing they did/do in Northern Ireland – no one took immediate action. Even worse, once officials did start evacuating, people were moved toward the assault area rather than away from it.
Yoga Sūtra 2.46: sthirasukham āsanam
– “Cultivate a steady [or stable], easy [comfortable or joyful] seat [or pose].”
If the last few years (not to mention thousands of years of world history) have taught us nothing, it’s that we have to be careful where we stand. This is true politically, socially, religiously, and spiritually; because our support of something (or someone) can create divisiveness or can be healing. Note, in this case I’m not talking about whether the thing (or person) itself creates suffering or healing – that’s a different philosophical conversation. (See one of my posts on āvidya, “ignorance.”) No, what I’m talking about here is that the way we carry ourselves, and the way we move through the world, provides both the means and the opportunity for healing or suffering – or, as Patanjali puts it, fulfillment and freedom.
This is also true physically. On and off the mat, how we sit – or stand or lie down or kneel or walk or talk or think – contributes to whether or not thoughts, words, and deeds create suffering or alleviate suffering. We can do “poses” all day, every day, and for every moment of our lives – but that, in and of itself, does not guarantee that we find peace and freedom from suffering. Getting on the mat regularly does not necessarily mean we are engaged in a healing practice. To access that healing, which the sūtras tells us is already in us, requires effort. To this point, Patanjali’s instruction on the fourth limb of the Yoga Philosophy, āsana, is succinct and points to continuous action. We don’t just plop into a position and find peace and joy, or even some of the healing benefits described in sacred and modern text. No, we have to “cultivate” – which is an ongoing experience.
“We are living in a body imbued with vast potential, and yet our mental faculty is so dull and dense that we are only dimly aware of its internal dynamics.
We have become disconnected from our body’s intrinsic intelligence. This dims our recognition of our inherent beauty, charm, vigor and vitality, and healing power, and eventually blocks their flow completely. As a result, our ability to be happy with what we are and what we have, our ability to embrace all and exclude none, our ability to cultivate and retain a robust and energetic body, and our ability to heal ourselves and each other plummet. This disconnection also disrupts the incessant flow of information among the body’s various systems and organs, and so they begin to function chaotically. This is how we become unhealthy and succumb to disease.”
– commentary on Yoga Sūtra 2.46 from The Practice of the Yoga Sūtra: Sadhana Pada by Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, PhD
The Spanish Infanta Maria Teresa (also known as Marie-Thérèse) was born heir to the Spanish and Portugal throne, Archduchess of Austria, a member of the Spanish branch of the House of Habsburg, and would eventually (by marriage) become Queen of France. Before you get the idea that she lived an easy life in the lap of luxury, I will point out that 5 of her six (known) children died before she did, she endured a lot a suffering during her lifetime, and she died a painful death. She is, however, an example of someone who, once given the means and opportunity to make a difference, had to adapt to changes in order to continue making a difference.
Her marriage to her double first cousin, Louis XIV (also known as “The Sun King” and “Louis the Great”), was stipulated as part of the “Peace of the Pyrenees,” which was signed today, November 7th, in 1659, Isle of Pheasants. The peace treaty ended 24 years of warfare between France and Spain and was part of the 30 Years War, which started as a religious conflict between Catholic and Protestants (similar to the situation in Northern Ireland). Unfortunately, neither the marriage nor the treaty was perfect.
Perhaps it wasn’t much of a hardship for Maria Teresa at first, since the 21-year old royals were supposedly in love. However, about a year into their marriage, Louis was clearly cheating. Yet, the marriage was still considered “necessary” to the treaty. In fact, previously, talks had stalled because Maria Teresa was (at one time) first in line to the Spanish throne. When she renounced her claim to the Spanish throne, and her younger brother was born, she was suppose to receive a settlement – which was never paid, and led to another war.
The treaty fixed a new border between France and Spain at the Pyrenees; but, it also gave most of Catalonia and any “villages” north of the Pyrenees to France. Spain got everything else north of the border and also kept Llívia (because it was considered a “town” not a “village”). In exchange for Spain’s loss of territory, France agreed to stop supporting Portugal and also renounced its claim to the county of Barcelona. The treaty also gave Dunkirk to England, which sold it to France.
Overall, the Treaty of the Pyrenees, combined with the “Peace of Westphalia” provided stability to France and a significant period of peace throughout Europe. That did not mean, however, that there was no “internal” conflict. For example, some of the people directly affected by the treaty, the Catalans, were excluded from the negotiations and lost the autonomy they might have had with Spain. Some of the ensuing culture conflicts continue to this day – and the Catalan language was not recognized as “valid” until 2007.
“A diseased body demands constant attention – we busy ourselves caring for it and have no time or energy to enjoy living in it. But as soon as we restore our connection with our body, our inner balance and harmony return. We become healthier, and we have ample time and energy to discover the purpose of having a human birth.
Restoring the natural connection with our body and reestablishing inner balance and harmony begin with the practice of asana.”
– commentary on Yoga Sūtra 2.46 from The Practice of the Yoga Sūtra: Sadhana Pada by Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, PhD
“Well, what shall I talk about? I ain’t got anything funny to say. All I know is what I read in the papers.”
– Will Rogers
Since I started doing Movember classes, almost a decade ago, people have asked (and I have wondered) whether this month dedicated to “changing the face of men’s health” has made a difference. I say yes, and have anecdotal evidence to back it up; but a lot of the scientific evidence is based on the importance of stage migration, whereby improved detection of an illness leads to a change in the average life expectancy of people who are clinically healthy and also the average life expectancy of people who are considered unhealthy.
As recently as last year, Italian researchers were studying how improved diagnostic scanning could improve life expectancy as well as quality of life for patients with oligometastatic prostate cancer. Another example of this type of stage migration in prostate cancer was documented in 2005 by researchers at the University of Connecticut Health Center in Farmington, Connecticut. Researchers had noticed a decline in the reported incidence of “low-grade” prostate cancers and, therefore, a change in overall life expectancy of people with prostate cancer. Based on a “population-based cohort of 1,858 men,” 75 years or older, the researchers compared prognosis and outcomes of prostate tissue (“retrieved and reread in 2002-2004”) based on the original Gleason score readings versus more contemporary interpretations of the Gleason score.
The Gleason score is a combination of two “grades” assigned to the two most dominant tissue cell patterns (with the lowest “grade” being the closest to normal or healthy tissue). The more contemporary readings changed which tissue patterns were considered “low grade” cancer, hence the decline in population numbers. However, they also found that since the contemporary score readings were significantly higher than the original readings, the overall mortality rate lowered by 28%. Both the examples above (from Italy and Connecticut) are indicate how early detection saves lives. They are also classic examples of why stage migration is known as “the Will Rogers phenomenon.”
“When the Oakies left Oklahoma and moved to California, it raised the I.Q. of both states.”
– Will Rogers
Born today in 1879, in Oologah, Cherokee Nation, Indian Territory (now Oklahoma), Will Rogers was known as “America’s Cowboy Philosopher,” “Oklahoma’s Favorite Son,” and “Ambassador to the World.” He was a cowboy and circus performer, a stage and motion picture actor, as well as a vaudeville performer, a humorist, and a syndicated newspaper columnist. He was also a Cherokee citizen who traveled the world three times and was, at one time, the highest paid Hollywood star.
Rogers was known for his folksy, down-home wit and his rope tricks. His smile, attitude, and intellect allowed him to make fun of everyone from politicians to gangsters (yes, there’s a Will Rogers’s joke in there) and everything from prohibition to gender interactions (and, yes, there’s probably a joke in there too). He once joked that his ancestors weren’t on the Mayflower, but that “they met the boat” and was proud of the fact that while he could joke about everyone, he’d never met a man he [didn’t] like.
While he spun his jokes, Will Rogers spun his rope. He earned a spot in the Guinness Book of World Records by simultaneously throwing a rope around a horse’s neck, a second rope around the rider, and a slipping a third rope under the horse so he could loop all four legs together. He randomly roped a wild steer in Madison Square Garden, before it could hurt an spectators – gaining front page attention and a job on a rooftop: just him, his rope, and his horse. He eventually performed with the Ziegfeld Follies, appeared on Broadway, and showed he could rift about anything and anybody – including President Woodrow Wilson.
“A gag, to be any good, has to be fashioned about some truth. The rest you get by your slant on it and perhaps by a wee bit of exaggeration, so’s people won’t miss the point.”
– Will Rogers
He was also known for getting people to laugh at themselves – a skill which enabled him to serve as a goodwill ambassador to Mexico and mayor of Beverly Hills. Will Rogers was a symbol of the self-made man and the common man, who believed in working hard, progress, and the possibility of the American Dream. All of which is pretty ironic when you consider that when he was growing up (as the youngest of 8), his father thought he needed to “be more responsible and more business-minded.” While he did eventually buy land in Oklahoma, where he had intended to retire, Will Rogers did not follow in his father’s footsteps. On the flip side, the three of his four children who survived into adulthood all seemed to follow some aspect of Will Rogers: one was a World War II hero who starred in two films (as his father) and served in Congress; one was a newspaperman who worked a ranch; and his only daughter became a Broadway actress.
“There are three kinds of men. The ones that learn by readin’. The few who learn by observation. The rest of them have to pee on the electric fence for themselves.”
– Will Rogers
Please join me today (Wednesday, Movember 4th) 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 “Mov 4th & Will Rogers 2020”]
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.)
– quoted from the poem “Do not go gentle into that good night” by Dylan Thomas
In another time and place, today was a day all about poetry and literature. Specifically, today was day devoted to the work of Sylvia Plath (born in Boston, Massachusetts today in 1932) and Dylan Thomas (born in Swansea, Wales in 1914). I even once squeezed in a couple of references to Zadie Smith – even though she was born on October 25, 1975 (in the London borough of Brent). And, while I might make a brief reference to these literary greats in class today, I find myself a little hard pressed to navigate the emotional and socio-political quagmire of yesterday when we are all so steeped in the emotional and socio-political quagmire of today. (Even though, let’s be real, some things have not really changed.)
I was especially reluctant to stick to “the way I’ve (always) done it,” because one of the elements to the way I use to lead the practice isn’t readily available. So, yesterday, I found myself looking for a something new, something special about today. Of course, there were a lot of things that caught my eye. However, thinking about the Cold War left me a little cold and, while I felt a little inspired by President Ronald Reagan’s 1964 “A Time for Choosing” speech (which aired today, as part of the “Rendezvous with Destiny” television special in support of the presidential nomination of Senator Barry Goldwater), that just opens a political can of worms.
Just to give you an idea of how my brain works: The title of Goldwater’s (Republican) TV special was inspired by a June 27, 1936 (Democratic) speech given in Philadelphia (which was founded today in 1682) by President Franklin Delano Roosevelt. The fact that FDR’s (Republican) cousin, President Theodore Roosevelt, was born today (in Manhattan, New York City in 1858) opens a whole other (political and religious) can of worms. However, I did find it amusing that President TR, who won the 1906 Nobel Peace Prize and served in the United States military as well as serving as Vice President, got married on his 22nd birthday (today in 1880) – and therefore shared a “wedding” anniversary with Sonny and Cher (who had a ceremony in Tijuana, Mexico today in 1964).
“Though lovers be lost love shall not; And death shall have no dominion.”
– quoted from the poem “And death shall have no dominion” by Dylan Thomas
There’s more, but most of it is tragic. We can be horrified by what happened in Missouri today in 1838 or anger about the children killed in Syria just a year ago today, but I find there is too much heaviness in my heart already to devote a whole class to these tragedies. Don’t get me wrong, I have no intention of forgetting people who were killed for just being who they were – people like United States Navy radioman Allen R. Schindler, Jr. (who was murdered today in 1992 because he was gay) or the people of devotion who were killed and wounded during the 2018 shooting during morning services at the Tree of Life – Or L’Simcha Congregation. But, right now I feel an overwhelming need to keep focusing on the breath, and on breathing into the present moment.
The irony of all my mental gymnastics is that even when I focused on Thomas and Plath, today was always about the breath and breathing into what the heart needs in the present moment.
“I took a deep breath and listened to the old bray of my heart: I am, I am, I am.”
or
“I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart: I am, I am, I am.”
– quoted from two different editions of The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
Please join metoday (Tuesday, October 27th) at 12 Noon or 7:15 PM for a virtual yoga practice on Zoom, where we will do what we do. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. Give yourself extra time to log in if you have not upgraded to Zoom 5.0. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below.
Tuesday’s Noon playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “07192020 Compassion & Peace (J’Accuse!)”]
The Tuesday evening playlist is also available on YouTube and Spotify.
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.)
“You and I are told increasingly we have to choose between a left or right. Well I’d like to suggest there is no such thing as a left or right. There’s only an up or down: [up] man’s old – old-aged dream, the ultimate in individual freedom consistent with law and order, or down to the ant heap of totalitarianism. And regardless of their sincerity, their humanitarian motives, those who would trade our freedom for security have embarked on this downward course.”
– quoted from the 1964 “A Time for Choosing” speech by Ronald Reagan
CORRECTION: The wrong birth year was originally posted for Theodore Roosevelt. (rev. 10/28/2025)
“Gentlemen, there are three things which belong to God and which do not belong to man: the irrevocable, the irreparable, the indissoluble. Woe to man if he introduces them into his laws! (Movement.) Sooner or later they cause society to bend under their weight, they disturb the necessary balance of laws and customs, they deprive human justice of its proportions; and then this happens, think about it, gentlemen, that the law terrifies the conscience. (Sensation.)”
— quoted from Victor Hugo’s address to the French Constituent (General) Assembly, September 15, 1848
“Love is like a tree: it grows by itself, roots itself deeply in our being and continues to flourish over a heart in ruin. The inexplicable fact is that the blinder it is, the more tenacious it is. It is never stronger than when it is completely unreasonable.”
— quoted from The Hunchback of Notre Dame by Victor Hugo
Consider Victor Hugo the tail end of the story… or the braid.
On the best of days, explaining the beginning of an idea is like pointing to the beginning of French braid wreath or the beginning of an ensō. I can point to a section of my very thick, very curly hair and explain that I separated this section from that and that section from this one and then started braiding them together as I, simultaneously, pulled in extra pieces from here and here…
But that leaves out the fact that first I had to wash and comb out my very thick, very curl, and very unprocessed hair. Still, even if we skip the part about where and when I learned how to braid my hair, we can repeat the steps above and get a different result every time. Sometimes it’s a relatively easy, even meditative process. Other times it is super frustrating and, after starting and stopping half a dozen times, I may or may not finish it the way I originally intended. I mean, let’s be real; sometimes it’s just going to be a scarf, bandana, or baseball cap day.
I say all this to explain that while I can definitely say that today’s class was influenced by that age old discussion of right and wrong (that so many are debating right now) and there are definitely the reverberations of some of the links embedded above. In some ways, today’s class theme started with yesterday’s class theme — but only if you go back to September 14, 2016.
“The heart becomes heroic through passion. It is no longer composed of anything but what is pure; it no longer rests upon anything but what is elevated and great.”
— quoted from Les Misérables by Victor Hugo
Yesterday was the anniversary of the birth of Dr. Ivan Pavlov (sort of) and also the date when Francis Scott Key penned the poem, “The Defence of Fort M’Henry”, that would eventually be combined with an English drinking song in order to become America’s national anthem. In my September 14, 2016 classes, at the Downtown Minneapolis YMCA and Nokomis Yoga, I used the national anthem as an example of a habit we had developed as a nation without really giving it much thought. Keep in mind that in August of that year, Colin Kaepernick had started sitting — and then kneeling — during the national anthem as a form of political protest. Neither he nor those who joined him in the NFL protest were protesting the flag or people who had served in the military, but their actions caused a great deal of uproar nevertheless. While, they had given some thought to why (they thought) that would be an appropriate time and place to protest, my point in bringing it up in class was that other people (most people) weren’t looking at the context, in part, because of the habit of “honoring the flag” with that particular song and in a very specific way. The habit was (and is) so deeply engrained it is part of people’s asmitā (sense of I-am-ness, which is the second affliction) and to question it (or even consider it in its entirety) activates people’s abhiniveśah (“fear of death”, which is the fifth affliction.)The song and the ritual around it are, I suggested, create a Pavlovian response and (to some) altering the tradition in any way, shape, or form is akin to threatening death.
“Try as you will, you cannot annihilate that eternal relic of the human heart, love.”
— Victor Hugo
Fast forward to 2020, and the country is (in some ways) even more polarized. So, when I got ready for my Monday class, I debated making the connection. It was a different audience, a different medium, and a different time — so I considered the merit; weighed the possibility of there being more good, in the reference, than harm. Even as I started the class, I was still carrying on that internal debate (which is why there’s no reference in yesterday’s blog post). Ultimately, I decided to end with the reference – and buddy, am I glad I did!
“Our mind is enriched by what we receive, our heart by what we give.”
— Victor Hugo
After class, a friend who is a music teacher told me about a composer and University of Minnesota professor, Abbie Betinis, who inverted the music for the “Star Spangled Banner”. The composition is pretty brilliant. It adds a timbre and tone that, if anything, highlight the weight of what Scott Key witnessed and all the battles that have led us up to today. I immediately started thinking about how we look at things from a different perspective when we (or the things) are upside down and backwards. Ms. Betinis (who has a January birthday) has a catalog of beautiful music, including a song inspired by a poem by Victor Hugo (who has a February birthday).
And it was right around this time that I realized Victor Hugo had been following me around… for days!
He was in conversations about “the republic” and underscoring contemplation about right and wrong, morals versus ethics versus laws. And he was in a friend’s Twitter feed (which is totally random, ‘cause y’all know I’m not on Twitter). Then I started delving into the speeches he made to the French Constituent Assembly and, in particular, to the speech he made today in 1848 calling for the abolition of the death penalty.
“I regret that this question, perhaps the first of all, arrives in the midst of your deliberations almost out of the blue, and surprises unprepared speakers.
As for me, I will say few words, but they will start from the feeling of a deep and ancient conviction.”
“Well, think about it, what is the death penalty? The death penalty is the special and eternal sign of barbarism. (Movement.) Wherever the death penalty is lavished, barbarism dominates; wherever the death penalty is rare, civilization reigns. (Sensation.)
Gentlemen, these are indisputable facts. The softening of the penalty is a big and serious step forward. Part of its glory, the eighteenth century, abolished torture; the nineteenth century will abolish the death penalty. (Cheers! Yes! Yes! )”
— quoted from Victor Hugo’s address to the French Constituent (General) Assembly, September 15, 1848
And it got me thinking about Victor Hugo as an activist and as a writer of social commentary. It got me thinking about all the struggles, trials and tribulations, and suffering found in his fiction – but also how there is always, always love. Despite the most horrible of odds, there is love. And, finally, it got me thinking about how any one of us is responding/reacting to all the mayhem, civil disobedience, civil unrest, and isolation we are currently encountering — and how we might react differently if we were a character in a Victor Hugo novel…or poem. Or, for that matter, how we might react if we were Victor Hugo, himself. How we can we stay true to ourselves even when “the bough is slight” or we are on shaky ground?
“Be like the bird, who Pausing in his flight On limb too slight Feels it give way beneath him Yet sings Knowing he has wings.”
— “Be like the bird” poem by Victor Hugo
Keep in mind, that some of this will not be evident in the class. Keep in mind, also, that my hair is super curly and super thick. So, when I braid my hair, all I have to do to keep all these threads together is keep joining everything together until I reach the end. Violá! Yoga (Union).
You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) email myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
“I feel in myself the future life. I am like a forest once cut down; the new shoots are stronger and livelier than ever. I am rising, I know, toward the sky. The sunshine is on my head. The earth gives me its generous sap, but heaven lights me with reflection of unknown worlds. You say the soul is nothing but the resultant of the bodily powers. Why, then, is my soul more luminous when my bodily powers begin to fail? Winter is on my head, but eternal spring is in my heart.”
— quoted from essay on Immortality by Victor Hugo (published in Sacramento Daily Union, March 16, 1882)
“The future belongs to hearts even more than it does to minds.”
— quoted from Les Misérables by Victor Hugo
2025: Some formatting revised.
### “To love another is to see the face of God.” (Les Mis, VH) ###
Since it took me longer than anticipated to put together this (very top heavy) playlist and explain how today’s class came together, today’s “official” post will come after the practice.
Please join metoday (Tuesday, September 15th) at 12 Noon or 7:15 PMfor a virtual yoga practice on Zoom, where we will do what we do. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. Give yourself extra time to log in if you have not upgraded to Zoom 5.0. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below.
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
– quoted from “The Man in the Arena” portion of the “Citizenship in a Republic” speech by former President Theodore Roosevelt (delivered April 23, 1910, Sorbonne, Paris)
It is not uncommon, when we turn inward, to find a head full of doubt; but, we also find a road of promise. We may find fear; but also strength, wisdom, and courage. Even when life is hard, strenuous, if we keep on pushing, we get a little bit stronger. There may be cracks, but that’s how the light gets in and…
OK, you get the picture. There’s a point where certain kinds of inspiration becomes a little syrupy, a little much, and even a little trite. This can especially be true when we are enduring a challenging time – or, as is the case now, challenging times. But, you know what never gets syrupy? You know what never gets trite? The story of someone who demonstrates that despite their hard times, they can still feel the spirit in their soul. The story of someone who is in a dark place, and yet still express gratitude for their unconquerable soul. The story of someone who may be far from home, with broken bones and a broken heart, a little rusty, but still runnin’.
We may not always want to hear one of those stories of people who are having the same hard time as us – or a significantly harder time than us – and still manages to find some joy in life, smile, and move forward. Sometimes we want to wallow in our muck, moan a few verses of “Oh, woe is me” and “Nobody Knows the Troubles I’ve Seen.” And we absolutely get to do that. Everybody gets to deal, cope, grieve, rail (or rage) against the machine in their own way and in their own time. But, let’s be honest, even that gets old and trite.
You know what never gets old? The stories of people who wrestle with the demons inside and outside, seen and unseen, and are still unbroken never gets old.
“I will now make a confession: It was the sight of your maimed strength and masterfulness that begot Long John Silver … the idea of the maimed man, ruling and dreaded by the sound, was entirely taken from you.”
– quoted from a letter to William Ernest Henley, written by Robert Louis Stevenson
Born today in 1849, in Gloucester, England, William Ernest Henley was a poet, a literary critic, an editor, and poet whose work and life has inspired billions of people around the world, including presidents and prime ministers, royalty, soldiers, athletes, captains of industries (and of starships), and other writers. Even though he wrote and published thousands of poems, he is remembered for one: an originally untitled work that we now call “Invictus.” It is a poem that in many ways encapsulates the old fashioned understanding of stoicism.
In modern times, we often think of someone who stuffs down their pain and pretends like it doesn’t exists. We might even associate the philosophy with having a “stiff upper lip” – which is the characteristic of someone who “grins and bears it” (but is in too much pain to actually grin). We might even think of someone who is stoic as someone who is unhappy. However, to the ancient stoics like Epictetus, Seneca, and the Emperor Marcus Aurelius stoicism was about finding happiness within a given fate, which meant accepting ones fate and figuring out how to move forward. And, William Ernest Henley was nothing if not stoic.
Henley wrote a whole slew of poems, including “Invictus,” which are referred to as his hospital poems (and one of his published collections is called In Hospital), because he spent a great deal of time in the hospital. From the age of 12, he suffered from a kind of tuberculosis that affected his bones and resulted in partial amputation of his left leg by the age of 20. His boisterous attitude, massive size, cleverness, and ability to laugh (loudly) – not to mention his one leg – inspired Robert Louis Stevenson to create the character Long John Silver in Treasure Island. (Although she died at a young age, Henley’s daughter Wendy shared some of her dad’s spirit and inspired one of the main characters of J. M. Barrie’s Peter Pan.)
Not long after the amputation of his left leg, doctors told Henley that they need to amputate his right leg. Henley fought against the idea, sought out other treatments, and eventually came under the care of the surgeon Joseph Lister, whose work with antiseptic surgery would save billions of lives (and inspire the creation of Listerine™). Dr. Lister, thorough a variety of treatments, was able to save Henley’s leg and enable Henley to live a relatively active life for almost thirty years. It was during one of those Lister-related hospital stays that Henley wrote “Invictus.”
“Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.”
– quoted from “The Sermon on the Mount,” The Gospel According to Matthew (7:14)
“It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.”
– quoted from “Invictus” by William Ernest Henley
Please join me for a “spirited” 65-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Sunday, August 23rd) at 2:30 PM. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. PLEASE NOTE: Zoom 5.0 is in effect. If you have not upgraded, you will need to give yourself extra time to log into Zoom. You can always request an audio recording of this practice (or any practice) via email or a comment below.
Today’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. (The playlists have slightly different before/after practice content.)
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.
“‘Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!’ cries she
With silent lips. ‘Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!’”
– from the poem “The New Colossus” by Emma Lazarus
Today (August 5th) in 1884, when the cornerstone of the Statue of Liberty’s pedestal was placed on a rainy Bedloe’s Island, it seemed impossible to complete the project meant to be a testament to freedom, friendship, and the spirit of the people. People in France provided the funds for the statue designed by the sculptor Frédéric-Auguste Bartholdi (with scaffolding created by Gustave Eiffel), while people in the United States were meant to pay for the base and pedestal designed by Richard Morris Hunt. The only problem was that the Americans were short…about $100,000 short.
Hunt’s design for the pedestal and base incorporated the eleven-point star foundation of the army fort (Fort Wood) which had been built in 1807 and abandoned during the Civil War. He always intended his design to be simple, so as not to take away from the statue itself, but raising money for his design turned out to be such a challenge that he scrapped twenty-five feet from the height of his original design. He also cut back on materials so that instead of the pedestal and base being constructed entirely out of granite, he had to make do with concrete walls covered with a granite-block face. His cost cutting measures still might not have been enough if a certain newspaper man hadn’t decided to tap into the spirit of the people and, in doing so, overcame what some viewed as an impossible obstacle. That newspaper man was Joseph Pulitzer and on March 16, 1885 he implored people in the United States to give what they could, even if it was a penny, in order to pay for the base and pedestal of the Statue of Liberty. Starting with an ad and a series of front page editorials, he was able to crowd fund over $100,000 in about 5 months.
“We must raise the money! The World is the people’s paper, and now it appeals to the people to come forward and raise the money. The $250,000 that the making of the Statue cost was paid in by the masses of the French people – by the working men, the tradesmen, the shop girls, the artisans – by all, irrespective of class or condition. Let us respond in like manner. Let us not wait for the millionaires to give us this money. It is not a gift from the millionaires of France to the millionaires of America, but a gift of the whole people of France to the whole people of America.
Take this appeal to yourself personally. It is meant for every reader of The World. Give something, however little. Send it to us. We will receive it and see that it is properly applied.”
– quoted from The New York World editorial by Joseph Pulitzer, 1885
Joseph Pulitzer offered people a six inch metal replica of Lady Liberty (described as a “perfect fac-simile”) if they donated a dollar to the “Pedestal Fund” established by Pulitzer’s paper the New York World and a twelve inch replica if they donated $5. While that may not seem like a lot today, keep in mind that this was after the Financial Panic of 1873 (which created a depression in the United States and Europe). Also, interest seemed to be in short supply since the United States was still trying to recover from the Civil War – which left many Americans desiring heroic public art rather than allegorical public art. But, Joseph Pulitzer had a way with words and there were a group of people – immigrants – who were inspired to donate specifically because of the symbolism of the statue. Ultimately, over 125,000 people donated – most donating a dollar or less. They not only donated to receive the replicas, they donated via auctions, lotteries, and boxing matches. They donated by depriving themselves of things they needed or things they wanted. Some kids donated by pooling their “circus” and candy money. Some adults donated what they would normally spend on drinks. At the end of the fundraising, Joseph Pulitzer printed every donor’s name in the New York World – regardless of how little or how much they donated.
The cornerstone is the first stone set in the foundation of a building or structure. All other stones are set in reference to the cornerstone; thereby making it the very foundation of the foundation. It determines the overall position of the structure and is often placed with a certain amount of pomp and circumstance. It is usually inscribed with the date of its placement and often includes a time capsule, which includes some clues as to what was important to the people who attended the ceremony. Such was the case with Lady Liberty’s pedestal cornerstone, which was placed over a square hole dug for a copper time capsule. The time capsule contained a number of articles, including the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United States – both documents considered to be the cornerstones of the United States and the ultimate law of the land.
Although we don’t always think of it this way, one of the cornerstones of the legal system in a commonwealth is a bar. It might be wooden railing, it might be metal railing; however, historically, this bar separated those within the legal profession (specifically the judge and those who had business with the court) from everyone else. In particular, “everyone else” referred to law students whose aspirations were to “pass the bar” – meaning they would be on the other side of the symbolic railing. This symbolic railing is also used to refer to professional organizations, membership in which is sometimes required in order for an attorney to practice law in a particular jurisdiction. Let’s skip “state bars” for a second and just focus on “voluntary” bar associations – which, in the United States are private organizations which serve as social, educational, and lobbying organizations. Legal professionals can not only use these bar associations to network with other professionals and the general public (hence expanding their practice), they can also advocate for law reform. I place “voluntary” in quotes, because I’m not sure how possible it is to practice law in the United States without being a member of a “bar association” (not to be confused with a state bar).
Even if it’s possible to practice without being a member of a bar association – and I trust one of you lawyer yogis will educate me with a comment below – I imagine it would be quite challenging (maybe even impossible) to successfully practice. Especially, back when there was only one major bar association in the United States. And, especially back in the 1920’s when your race and gender prevented you from joining said association. Such was the plight of Gertrude Rush (née Durden), born today (August 5th) in 1880 in Navasota, Texas. Ms. Rush not only became the first African-American woman to be admitted to the Iowa (state) bar, for about 32 years she was (sometimes) the ONLY female attorney practicing in the state of Iowa (1918 – 1950). She placed a particular emphasis on women’s (legal) rights in estate cases and had a passion for religion, extensively studying the 240 women whose stories are featured in the Bible. Many within the local court referred to her as the “Sunday school lawyer.” She took over her husband’s law practice and, in 1921 (just a year after women’s right to vote was ratified by the United States Congress) she was elected the president of the Colored Bar Association; however, it was impossible for her to be admitted to the American Bar Association. She tried. So, did several other African-American lawyers. They tried because the ABA had one Black lawyer and was, therefore “integrated.” Eventually, however, they stopped trying to join an organization that didn’t want them and started their own organization.
“…a very worn Bible is almost as prominent as the well-thumbed Iowa code on the desk of Mrs. Gertrude E. Rush.”
– quoted from “Iowa’s Only Negro Woman Lawyer Firmly on the Golden Rule” article about Gertrude Rush, located in Iowa Public Library (excerpt printed in Notable Black American Women, Book 2 by Jessie Carney Smith
Gertrude Rush was one of the founding members of the Negro Bar Association, which was incorporated on August 1, 1925 with 120 members (which was about 11 – 12% of the Black lawyers in the US at the time). Eventually renamed, the National Bar Association, the NBA ” addressed issues such as professional ethics, legal education, and uniform state laws, as well as questions concerning the civil rights movement in transportation discrimination, residential segregation, and voting rights.” The NBA supported civil rights groups by providing legal information, filing outside legal briefs (amicus curiae), and blocking federal court nominees who opposed racial equality. As a bar association, however, the NBA did not directly participate in civil rights activities. Instead, NBA members like Gertrude Rush and (eventual) Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall became members of the NAACP (National Association for the Advancement of Colored People).
It was as part of the NAACP’s legal team that Justice Marshall argued cases like Donald Gaines Murray in Murray v. Pearson, 169 Md. 478, 182 A. 590 (1936) and Brown v. Board of Education of Topeka, 347 U.S. 483 (1954). Raymond Pace Alexander founded the National Bar Journal (1941), which became a way for Black lawyers to challenge legal principles which conflicted with the interest of African-Americans. The Rev. W. Harold Flowers, a co-founder with Ms. Rush and a former president of the NBA (who would eventually be appointed as an associate justice of the state Court of Appeals), was the attorney whose motions in 1947 resulted in a reconfigured jury after he pointed out that the Arkansas court had not had a Black juror in 50 years. Additionally, the NBA established free legal clinics in 12 states, thereby creating the foundational cornerstone for the poverty law and legal clinics of today.
Gertrude Rush was also one of the organizers of the Charity League, which coordinated the hiring of a Black probation officer for the Des Moines Juvenile Court; created the Protection Home for Negro Girls, a shelter; and served on the boards of a host of other women’s organizations.
Stay tuned for news about when I will resume classes. If you want to practice with one of the previously recorded classes, I would suggest June 17th (a Lady Liberty class with a lot of arm movement, good for the brain and shoulders – some of you call it a “sobriety test”). The playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. (The playlist starts with instrumental music. If your Spotify is on shuffle, you will want your music volume low at the beginning of the practice.)
Feel free to email me at Myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com if you would like a copy of the recordings from Wednesday, June 17th.
As I running late, this August 5th post is actually being published on August 6th, which the anniversary of President Lyndon B. Johnson signing the Voting Rights Act of 1965 into law. The act has been amended at least five times, to close legal loopholes and reinforce the rule of law.
Today, August 6th, is also the anniversary of President Abraham Lincoln signing the Confiscation Act of 1861 and the U. S. bombing of Hiroshima in 1945. President Lincoln wasn’t sure of the legality and effects of the Confiscations Acts of 1861 and 1862, he signed them into law anyway. To this day, people are still debating the effects of the bombings on August 6th and 9th (Nagasaki), both of which clearly broke the Golden Rule (and the not then established Geneva Convention).
As you practice today, hold a neighbor in your hearts and minds with friendship and kindness. Offer your efforts, no matter how small, as a token of that friendship and kindness. As so many people suffer due to current events, may we take a moment to remember those who are still suffering due to our shared past. Let us not forget those who are still grieving and healing from past wounds. May our efforts bring us all closer to peace, harmony, and benevolence.
ERRATA: The original post listed the wrong year for the Statue of Liberty’s cornerstone placement.
“Impossible is just a 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 potential. Impossible is temporary. Impossible is nothing.”
– quoted from a 2004 Adidas ad campaign written by Aimee Lehto (with final tag line credited to Boyd Croyner), often attributed to Muhammad Ali
Yesterday I referred to Maria Mitchell as an impossible woman. Back in 2016, thanks to Justin Timberlake quoting Muhammad Ali to a bunch of teens, I started thinking about what it meant to be an impossible person and spent the first week in August highlighting impossible people. Born today in Harlem, New York, in 1924, the author James Baldwin is – by his own words – my second impossible person.
“Given the conditions in this country to be a black writer was impossible. When I was young, people thought you were not so much wicked as sick, they gave up on you. My father didn’t think it was possible—he thought I’d get killed, get murdered. He said I was contesting the white man’s definitions, which was quite right.”
– James Baldwin, quoted from the interview “James Baldwin, The Art of Fiction No. 78” by Jordan Elgrably (printed in The Paris Review, Issue 91, Spring 1984)
Mr. Baldwin’s life (and career) were, in so many ways, shaped by a combination of opinions. There were the opinions of his stepfather David Baldwin (who he referred to as his father) about life in general plus his stepfather’s opinion of how the world would view him, how the world actually viewed him, and his own ideas about what was possible – or, what was necessary. He spent the ages of 14 – 17 following his father’s footsteps into the ministry and then, when his father died, he took a giant leap. He said, “Those were three years [preaching] which probably turned me to writing.”
Leaping into writing was not Mr. Baldwin’s only leap. He leapt across the pond to Paris, France, twice, even as his writing challenged Western society’s conceptions about race, class, gender, and sexuality. His essays, novels, and plays include Giovanni’s Room, Notes of a Native Son, The Fire Next Time, If Beale Street Could Talk (which was recently made into a movie) and the unfinished manuscript Remember This House (which was adapted to create the 2016 Academy Award-nominated documentary I Am Not Your Negro). Mr. Baldwin first went to Paris with $40 and not a lick of French. He was 24 years old, coming to grips with his sexuality, and escaping what he viewed – what he had witnessed – was a death sentence at the hands of American society.
“Not so metaphorically. Looking for a place to live. Looking for a job. You begin to doubt your judgment, you begin to doubt everything. You become imprecise. And that’s when you’re beginning to go under. You’ve been beaten, and it’s been deliberate. The whole society has decided to make you nothing. And they don’t even know they’re doing it.”
– James Baldwin, quoted from the interview “James Baldwin, The Art of Fiction No. 78” by Jordan Elgrably (printed in The Paris Review, Issue 91, Spring 1984)
From Paris, he was able to not only gain perspective about his experiences of being Black in America (and of being Black and Gay in America), but also to offer those experience back to the United States – in the form of a literary mirror. In words that very much echo Miss Maria Mitchell’s words, he said wanted to see himself, and be seen as, more than “merely a Negro; or, merely a Negro writer.”
In his late 30’s/early 40’s, Mr. Baldwin briefly returned to the United States and physically participated in the Civil Rights Movement and Gay Liberation Movement that he had (from Paris) helped to literally inspire. He became friends with Langston Hughes, Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, Medgar Evers, Lorraine Hansberry, Nikki Giovanni, and Nina Simone (who he and Mr. Hughes convinced to become active in the Civil Rights Movement). He worked with Drs. Kenneth and Mamie Clark, as well as Lena Horne and Miss Hansberry, to discuss the importance of civil rights legislation with President John F. Kennedy.
His friendships, however, were not only with Black artists and activists. He worked with his childhood friend Richard Avedon, marched with Marlon Brando and Charlton Heston, collaborated with Margaret Mead and Sol Stein, and also knew Rip Torn, Jean-Paul Sartre, and Dorothea Tanning. In fact, to read a biography or autobiography of James Baldwin is to read a Who’s Who of activism and artistry in the 20th century. But, you don’t have to settle for a reading a measly biography. If you can get your hands on the 1,884 pages of documents compiled by the FBI, you would be in for quite a treat.
Yes, you read that correctly. For a little over a decade, the FBI collected nearly two thousand pages worth of documents on a man that many Americans may not realize helped convince President Kennedy to send federal troops to defend the civil rights activists marching from Selma to Montgomery. True, it’s not the well-over 17,000 pages they compiled on Martin Luther King (not including the wire-tap documents). Here, however, is some perspective: the FBI only collected 276 pages on authors like Richard Wright (Native Son) and 110 pages on authors like Truman Capote (In Cold Blood) and Henry Miller (Tropic of Cancer). Additionally, FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover showed a particular interest in Mr. Baldwin and actually worked with agents to figure out ways they could ban Mr. Baldwin’s 1962 novel Another Country – despite the fact that the report of the Justice Department’s General Crimes Section “concluded that the book contains literary merit and may be of value to students of psychology and social behavior.”
“The occurrence of an event is not the same thing as knowing what it is that one has lived through. Most people had not lived — nor could it, for that matter, be said that they had died– through any of their terrible events. They had simply been stunned by the hammer. They passed their lives thereafter in a kind of limbo of denied and unexamined pain. The great question that faced him this morning was whether or not had had ever, really, been present at his life.”
– quoted from Another Country by James Baldwin
“I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.”
– quoted from The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin
When so many of his friends, who were also the leaders of the Civil Rights Movement, were killed, Mr. Baldwin made his second leap back to Paris. Again, it was a leap made out of fear and the basic desire to survive. His grief, anger, horror, and disappointment are all on full display in later works like If Beale Street Could Talk, Just Above My Head, and the 1985 non-fiction book Evidence of Things Not Seen (about the Atlanta child murders). Yet, until his dying day he wrote about love and hope – even using a portion of the Epistle to the Hebrews, from the Christian New Testament, as the title of his book about the Atlanta child murders.
Another place where you can see Mr. Baldwin’s devotion to love, life, and humanity is in the words of his friends; people, who actually knew him, were inspired by him, and some of whom called him Jim or Jimmy. When he died in 1987, Maya Angelou wrote a tribute for The New York Times, entitled “James Baldwin: His Voice Remembered; Life In His Language.” In addition to describing how Mr. Baldwin introduced her to his family as his mother’s newest daughter, she explained that he “opened the [unusual] door” and encouraged her to tell her story.
“Well, the season was always Christmas with you there and, like one aspect of that scenario, you did not neglect to bring at least three gifts. You gave me a language to dwell in, a gift so perfect it seems my own invention….
The second gift was your courage, which you let us share: the courage of one who would go as a stranger in the village and transform the distances between people into intimacy with the whole world; courage to understand that experience in ways that made it a personal revelation for each of us…. Yours was the courage to live life in and from its belly as well as beyond its edges, to see and say what was, to recognize and identify evil, but never fear or stand in awe of it….
The third gift was hard to fathom and even harder to accept. It was your tenderness – a tenderness so delicate that I thought it could not last, but last it did and envelop me it did. In the midst of anger it tapped me lightly like the child in Tish’s womb…. Yours was a tenderness, of vulnerability, that asked everything, expected everything and, like the world’s own Merlin, provided us with the ways and means to deliver. I suppose that was why I was always a bit better behaved around you, smarter, more capable, wanting to be worth the love you lavished, and wanting to be steady enough to bear while it broke your heart, wanting to be generous enough to join your smile with one of my own, and reckless enough to jump on in that laugh you laughed. Because our joy and our laughter were not only all right, they were necessary.”
– quoted from “James Baldwin: His Voice Remembered; Life In His Language” by Maya Angelou (printed in The New York Times Book Review December 20, 1987)
I have cancelled class today and tomorrow night, but encourage you to practice.Practice with those aforementioned gifts and especially the second and third gifts – with courage and tenderness that has you lifting the corners of your mouth up to your ears and laughing out loud.
In the past, I have used a variation of my “Langston Hughes” playlist, which features Miles Davis, Charles Mingus, Charlie Parker, and a whole lot of Bach. You are welcome to use my “Selma to Montgomery” playlist, which is available on YouTube and Spotify. However, if you have time, I would encourage you to grab some Nina Simone, Lena Horne, Harry Belafonte (“Merci Bon Dieu” comes to mind, of course), Sammy Davis, Jr., and Joan Baez – and then mix in some of the aforementioned jazz.
“I love America more than any other country in this world, and, exactly for this reason, I insist on the right to criticize her perpetually.”
“Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within. I use the word love here not merely in the personal sense but as a state of being or a state of grace – not in the infantile American sense of being made happy but in the tough and universal sense of quest and daring and growth….Love is a growing up.”
– James Baldwin
2022 Errata: This post has been updated to correctly credit the Adidas ad associated with Muhammad Ali and to clarify that all references to James Baldwin’s “father” and “stepfather” refer to David Baldwin. Additionally, some syntax has been revised and music links have been update.
(“Ramadan Mubarak, Blessed Ramadan!” to anyone who is observing Ramadan. I typically talk about Ramadan at the end of the season, so keep your eyes open for the night of power.)
“Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life.”
– Omar Khayyám
One of the most influential polymaths of the Middle Ages – a mathematician, astronomer, and scientist who wrote treatises on algebra and astronomy and whose calendar calculations still provide the basis for calendars used in Iran and Afghanistan – is primarily remembered in the West as a poet. One wonders if Omar Khayyám (born today, Mary 18, 1048) would find it amusing or annoying that when most people outside of his homeland think of him they think not of cubic equations or Euclidean geometry and the parallel axiom, but of quatrains, complete poems written in four lines. I personally think he might be amused, especially considering the fact that many historians believe he wrote the poems as a diversion, a little personal entertainment to relieve stress. Some historians even have good solid reasons to believe that many of the quatrains attributed to Khayyám were not actually written by him. Especially since the poems did not start appearing in the public sphere until 43 years after Khayyám’s death.
“The inner spiritual message is for all mankind, no matter what form it is contained in. The message is greater than any sect’s way of understanding it and goes out to all, just as the Sun shines on everyone, sinner and saint.
Fitzgerald’s first translation of the Rubáiyát was inspired for the benefit of all mankind. Allah works in mysterious ways. Whenever he wants something to come through in a pure way, it will happen in spite of everything.”
– from Who is the Potter? A Commentary on The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám by Abdullah Dougan (based on translations by Edward FitzGerald)
Khayyám’s popularity in the West is primarily due to a collection of translations by Edward FitzGerald. FitzGerald, an aspiring English poet and writer, was a contemporary of William Makepeace Thackeray and Lord Alfred Tennyson, but his literary aspirations never met with the acclaim of his friends. His friend and professor, Edward Byles Cowell (a noted translator of Persian poetry and the first professor of Sanskrit at Cambridge University) sent FitzGerald the quatrains in the form of two manuscripts: the Bodleian (containing 158 quatrains) and the “Calcutta” manuscript. While the initial pamphlet of the Rubáiyát, didn’t receive much fanfare, it would eventually become so popular that FitzGerald approved four editions of the “collection of poems written in four lines” and a fifth would be publish after his death. According to a 2009 article in the book review section of The Telegraph, The Rubáiyát has been published in at least 650 editions, with illustrations by 150 artists, and translated into 70 languages. All this, plus, it has been set to music by no less than 100 composers.
“Even if a man had lived for a hundred years and had changed his religion, philosophy, and beliefs twice a day, he could scarcely have given expression to such a range of ideas.”
– commentary by Sadegh Hedayat in In Search of Omar Khayyám by Ali Dashti (translated by L. P. Elwell-Sutton)
Edward FitzGerald was a Christian skeptic and his skepticism comes through the translations loud and clear, as if he found a kindred spirit in the Persian poet. On the flip side, some see Omar Khayyám as a Sufi mystic – even though, he was reviled by prominent Sufi leaders during his lifetime. Lines like “Who is the Potter, pray, and who is the Pot?” further the confusion as they can be seen as a very definitely acknowledgement of a Divine Creator or as a philosophical question posed by a writer who believes God is a construct of man. Those religious and spiritual contradictions, the sheer volume of poems, and the lack of provenance are some of the problems critics have with all of the quatrains being attributed to Omar Khayyám. In fact, while there are 1,200 – 2,000 quatrains attributed to Khayyám, prominent scholars have estimated that the actual number of verified lines is 121 – 178, as little as 14 – 36.
In addition to some poems, and his work in math and astrology, Omar Khayyám wrote several philosophical essays about existence, knowledge, and natural phenomena. One such essay, on free will and determination, is entitled “The necessity of contradiction in the world, determinism and subsistence” – which puts a whole other spin on the poems if, in fact, he wrote them as a kind of brain candy.
“Myself when young did eagerly frequent Doctor and Saint, and heard great argument About it and about: but evermore Came out by the same door where in I went.
With them the seed of Wisdom did I sow, And with mine own hand wrought to make it grow; And this was all the Harvest that I reap’d– “I came like Water, and like Wind I go.”
– XXVII and XXIX from The Rubáiyát by Omar Khayyám
You can come to the practice as a physical-mental exercise, as a spiritual exercise, or even as a mathematical exercise. The question is: will you leave it the same way you came to it? What will shift, what will change along the way? These are the questions we ask each and every time we step on the mat. Please join me on the virtual mat today (Monday, May 18th) at 5:30 PM for a 75-minute yoga practice on Zoom.
This is a 75-minute Common Ground Meditation Center practice that, in the spirit of generosity (dana), is freely given and freely received. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. If you are able to support the center and its teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” my other practices, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible, class purchases are not necessarily.)
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A Joyful Practice 