Who’s Afraid of Sitting, Breathing… in a Room? (the “missing” Saturday post w/an excerpt) January 25, 2025
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in "Impossible" People, Abhyasa, Art, Books, Changing Perspectives, Confessions, Depression, Healing Stories, Health, Hope, Life, Loss, Meditation, Movies, Music, One Hoop, Philosophy, Suffering, Tragedy, Vairagya, Vipassana, Wisdom, Women, Writing, Yoga.Tags: 988, asana, Dr. Toya Webb, hatha yoga, Hatha Yoga Pradipika, Haţha Yoga Pradipika, Metta, Michael Cunningham, Pancham Sinh, Patanjali, priviledge, siddhis, The Air I Breathe, trauma, Virginia Woolf, Yoga Sutra 1.33-1.40, Yoga Sutra 3.16, Yoga Sutras 2.51-2.52
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Many blessings to everyone, and especially those observing Maha Kumbh Mela.
May you be safe and protected / May you be peaceful and happy / May you be healthy and strong!
This is the “missing” post for Saturday, January 25th. It is a slightly revised (and remixed) version of previously posted content (with some new content mixed in). If you click on the link in the “CODA, redux” (or the excerpt below), please note that the beginning is similar (but the posts are different).
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“A writer is a person who sits at a desk and keeps his eye fixed, as intently as he can, upon a certain object—that figure of speech may help to keep us steady on our path if we look at it for a moment. He is an artist who sits with a sheet of paper in front of him trying to copy what he sees. What is his object—his model?”
— quoted from the essay “The Leaning Tower (A paper read to the Workers’ Educational Association, Brighton, May 1940.)” as it appears in The Moment and Other Essays by Virginia Woolf (b. 1882)
Yoga Sūtra 1.40: paramāṇuparamamahattvānto ‘sya vaśīkāraḥ
— “When, through such practices [focusing on a certain object, as previously described in YS 1.33 – 1.39), the mind develops the power of becoming stable on the smallest size object as well as on the largest, then the mind truly comes under control.”
CODA, redux
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, whenever I circle back to this practice and this theme, I found myself thinking about different similarities. In previous years, 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. This year (and in 2023), I found myself thinking more and more about what it takes to tell our stories and the vantage point(s) from which we tell our stories — especially the stories we tell about our defining moments.
“A writer has to keep his eye upon a model that moves, that changes, upon an object that is not one object but innumerable objects. Two words alone cover all that a writer looks at—they are, human life.”
— quoted from the essay “The Leaning Tower (A paper read to the Workers’ Educational Association, Brighton, May 1940.)” as it appears in The Moment and Other Essays by Virginia Woolf
Yoga Sūtra 3.16: pariṇāmatrayasaṃyamādatãtānāgatajñānam
— “By samyama [focus-concentration-meditation] on the three-fold changes in form, time, and characteristics, there comes knowledge of the past and future.”
We all have defining moments in our lives. These may be moments that we use to describe the trajectory of our lives or maybe moments that we use to describe ourselves. Either way, when a single moment plays a big part in who we are and what’s important to us, we sometimes forget that that single moment — as important as it may be — is part of a sequence of moments. It is the culmination of what’s happened before and the beginning of what happens next; it’s just a single part of our ever-changing story. Even when — or, especially when — that moment is the story, we have to be careful about how we frame it. It doesn’t matter if we are telling our story or someone else’s story; how we tell the story matters.
“But the leaning-tower writers wrote about themselves honestly, therefore creatively. They told the unpleasant truths, not only the flattering truths. That is why their autobiography is so much better than their fiction or their poetry. Consider how difficult it is to tell the truth about oneself—the unpleasant truth; to admit that one is petty, vain, mean, frustrated, tortured, unfaithful, and unsuccessful. The nineteenth-century writers never told that kind of truth, and that is why so much of the nineteenth-century writing is worthless; why, for all their genius, Dickens and Thackeray seem so often to write about dolls and puppets, not about full-grown men and women; why they are forced to evade the main themes and make do with diversions instead. If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people.”
— quoted from the essay “The Leaning Tower (A paper read to the Workers’ Educational Association, Brighton, May 1940.)” as it appears in The Moment and Other Essays by Virginia Woolf
Born Virginia Stephen in Kensington, England, on January 25, 1882, Virginia Woolf wrote 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. Some of her most famous essays and speeches addressed the labor of writing — telling stories — and why (in the Western canon) there were so few accomplished female writers. For instance, in October 1928, she 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.)
These speeches about women and fiction specifically detailed why there were so few women writers who had earned acclaim (and, to a certain degree, why those that did often did so anonymously or with “male” names). She highlighted the absurd trichotomy between the two wildly archetypical ways women are portrayed in literature and the reality of the very different types of women in the room, let alone in the world. She also 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.
In addition to talking about the social constraints that prevented a woman from devoting copious time to the practical application of her craft — writing, she also discussed 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. All this, she detailed, as she highlighted two (really three) of the things a woman would need to overcome the obstacles of society: (time), space, and money.
“… 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
“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)
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 first struck me was how similar Virginia Woolf’s advice to women writers was to the early instructions about a practice that can be used to cultivate clarity and harness the power of the mind. Additionally, the practice requires — nay demands — that we sit and turn inward (in order to consider our perspectives and vantage points), just as Ms. Woolf’s essays highlighted the importance of noticing a writer’s seat.
“But before we go on with the story of what happened after 1914, let us look more closely for a moment, not at the writer himself; nor at his model; but at his chair. A chair is a very important part of a writer’s outfit. It is the chair that gives him his attitude towards his model; that decides what he sees of human life; that profoundly affects his power of telling us what he sees. By his chair we mean his upbringing, his education. It is a fact, not a theory, that all writers from Chaucer to the present day, with so few exceptions that one hand can count them, have sat upon the same kind of chair—a raised chair. They have all come from the middle class; they have had good, at least expensive, educations. They have all been raised above the mass of people upon a tower of stucco—that is their middle-class birth; and of gold—that is their expensive education…. Those are some of them; and all, with the exception of D. H. Lawrence, came of the middle class, and were educated at public schools and universities. There is another fact, equally indisputable: the books that they wrote were among the best books written between 1910 and 1925. Now let us ask, is there any connection between those facts? Is there a connection between the excellence of their work and the fact that they came of families rich enough to send them to public schools and universities?”
— quoted from the essay “The Leaning Tower (A paper read to the Workers’ Educational Association, Brighton, May 1940.)” as it appears in The Moment and Other Essays by Virginia Woolf
According to Virginia Woolf, there was an undeniable connection between wealth, the education that wealth provides, and the success of [male] English writers in the eighteenth, nineteenth, and early twentieth centuries. She saw that common thread of privilege as the very foundation of (and secret to) these writers’ success and described it as a tower, stating, “He sits upon a tower raised above the rest of us; a tower built first on his parents’ station, then on his parents’ gold. It is a tower of the utmost importance; it decides his angle of vision; it affects his power of communication.” She also saw it as a blind spot (for such writers and society) and noted that the tower stood strong well into the twentieth century. While the writers supported by this metaphorical tower sometimes had empathy for those less fortunate than them, she observed that they had no desire to dismantle the tower or descend from it’s heights. Furthermore, the tower (and lack of awareness about it) perpetuated misconceptions about women and about why there were not more women — nor more people from lower income brackets — in the ranks of acclaimed authors.
Here is where I see another similarity between yoga and Virginia Woolf’s work, because some people have misconceptions about what it means to practice yoga, what happens when you practice yoga, who practices yoga, and why people practice yoga. For instance, 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. More often than not, these types of misconceptions stem from a lack of knowledge about the history and practice of yoga. Unfortunately, that lack of knowledge often causes people to not practice and/or to judge people for practicing.
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 (theory), 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. To bring awareness to all of these things, we “sit and breathe” (even when we are moving).
“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)
Yoga Sūtra 2.51: bāhyābhyantaravişayākşepī caturthah
— “The fourth [prāņāyāma] goes beyond, or transcends, the internal and external objects.”
Yoga Sūtra 2.52: tatah kşīyate prakāśāvaraņam
— “Then the veil over the [Inner] Light deteriorates.”
“Unconsciousness, which means presumably that the under-mind, works at top speed while the upper-mind drowses, is a state we all know. We all have experience of the work done by unconsciousness in our own daily lives. You have had a crowded day, let us suppose, sightseeing in London. Could you say what you had seen and done when you came back? Was it not all a blur, a confusion? But after what seemed a rest, a chance to turn aside and look at something different, the sights and sounds and sayings that had been of most interest to you swam to the surface, apparently of their own accord; and remained in memory; what was unimportant sank into forgetfulness. So it is with the writer. After a hard day’s work, trudging round, seeing all he can, feeling all he can, taking in the book of his mind innumerable notes, the writer becomes—if he can—unconscious. In fact, his under-mind works at top speed while his upper-mind drowses. Then, after a pause the veil lifts; and there is the thing—the thing he wants to write about—simplified, composed. Do we strain Wordsworth’s famous saying about emotion recollected in [tranquility] when we infer that by [tranquility] he meant that the writer needs to become unconscious before he can create?”
— quoted from the essay “The Leaning Tower (A paper read to the Workers’ Educational Association, Brighton, May 1940.)” as it appears in The Moment and Other Essays by Virginia Woolf
When we “sit and breathe” a lot of things bubble up: thoughts, emotions, sensations, memories. Part of the practice is noticing what comes up and part of the practice is remaining the witness to what comes up (rather than engaging every little fluctuation of the mind). Contrary to some popular misconceptions, people who practice feel a lot — they’re just not always distracted by every thing they feel. Instead, they allow the different thoughts, emotions, sensations, and memories to pass back and forth between their conscious, subconscious, and unconscious mind until the busy brain rests. They are not constantly cataloging what is specific, what is unspecific, what is barely describable, and what is absolutely indescribable; however, they are aware of all of these categories as they experience them.
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. 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.
“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
Click on the excerpt title below for the 2022 post that details some of Virginia Woolf’s trauma and heartbreak. (Again, the introduction is similar, but some of the content is very different.)
Sitting, Breathing… in a Room [the “missing” Tuesday post]
“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
The Air I Breathe, one of my favorite movies, was released in the United States on January 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.
This time of year, the statements and the questions also remind us that change happens every time we inhale, every time we exhale — and we can make that change happen.
“‘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.”
Saturday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “01252022 Sitting, Breathing… in a Room”]
“You cannot find peace by avoiding life.”
— quoted from The Hours: a novel by Michael Cunningham
If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can dial 988 (in the US) or call 1-800-273-TALK (8255) for the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. You can also call this TALK line if you are struggling with addiction or involved in an abusive relationship. The Lifeline network is free, confidential, and available to all 24/7. YOU CAN TALK ABOUT ANYTHING.
White Flag is a new app, which I have not yet researched, but which may be helpful if you need peer-to-peer (non-professional) support.
If you are a young person in crisis, feeling suicidal, or in need of a safe and judgement-free place to talk, you can also click here to 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.”
— quoted from the November 2018 TedxDelthorneWomen talk entitled, “Change Your Perspective and Change Your Story” by Dr. Toya Webb
### BRING AWARENESS TO YOUR SEAT! ###
FTWMI: Vivekananda & A Simple Practice January 12, 2025
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, 988, 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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May your mind-body-spirit be well, be great, and be in harmony with your thoughts, words, and deeds.
For Those Who Missed It: The following was originally posted in 2022. There are some minor revisions and additions. Plus, some formatting, links, and class details have been added and/or revised.
“…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 learned 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 and quote from a hymn (see below) that he said, “I remember to have repeated from my earliest boyhood, which is every day repeated by millions of human beings”. He also 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 — along with the fact that 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 to 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.
The 2022 theme for National Youth Day was “It’s all in the mind”, which like previous themes is based on Swami Vivekananda’s teachings. The 2024 and 2025 themes focus on the power of youth.
“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*
Please join me for a 65-minute for a virtual yoga practice on Zoom, today (Sunday, January 12th) at 2:30 PM. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Sunday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “01122022 Vivekananda & A Simple Practice”]
*NOTE: The 2022 practices 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.”
“Even when a man takes revenge on others who hate him, in spite of him not hating them initially, the pain caused by his vengeance will bring him inevitable sorrow.” (313)
“When a man inflicts pain upon others in the forenoon, it will come upon him unsought in the afternoon.” (319)
— quoted from the English translation of the portion of the Thirukkural (Sacred Couplets) used as Tamil lyrics for the song “Ahimsa” by U2 and A. R. Rahman, featuring Khatija and Raheema Rahman (translation from IntegralYoga.org)
If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can dial 988 (in the US) or call 1-800-273-TALK (8255) for the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. You can also call this TALK line if you are struggling with addiction or involved in an abusive relationship. The Lifeline network is free, confidential, and available to all 24/7. YOU CAN TALK ABOUT ANYTHING.
White Flag is a new app, which I have not yet researched, but which may be helpful if you need peer-to-peer (non-professional) support.
If you are a young person in crisis, feeling suicidal, or in need of a safe and judgement-free place to talk, you can also click here to contact the TrevorLifeline (which is staffed 24/7 with trained counselors).
### The aforementioned hymn: “As the different streams having their sources in different places all mingle their water in the sea, so, O Lord, the different paths which men take through different tendencies, various though they appear, crooked or straight, all lead to Thee.” ###
EXCERPT: “A Simple, Radical, ‘Bad to the Bone’ Man” January 11, 2025
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Abhyasa, Changing Perspectives, Dharma, Faith, Gratitude, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Meditation, Mysticism, One Hoop, Peace, Philosophy, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, Religion, Wisdom, Yoga.Tags: 988, activism, Cardinal August Bea, Dr. Susannah Heschel, habits, kabbalah, Martin Luther King Jr, mitzvot, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, samskāras, Selma to Montgomery, vasanas, Vatican II
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Happy New Year! May your mind-body-spirit be well, be great, and be in harmony with your thoughts, words, and deeds.
There was no Zoom class on Saturday, January 11th; however, people on the Saturday mailing list received a practice related to the post excerpted below. CLICK ON THE EXCERPT TITLE FOR MORE. You can request an audio recording of previous practices via a comment below or by emailing 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.
“Our concern is not how to worship in the catacombs but how to remain human in the skyscrapers.”
— quoted from “Part V: The Meaning of this Hour – 40. Religion in Modern Society” in Between God and Man by Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel (b. 01/11/1907)
FTWMI: A Simple, Radical, “Bad to the Bone” Man
If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can dial 988 (in the US) or call 1-800-273-TALK (8255) for the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. You can also call this TALK line if you are struggling with addiction or involved in an abusive relationship. The Lifeline network is free, confidential, and available to all 24/7. YOU CAN TALK ABOUT ANYTHING.
White Flag is a new app, which I have not yet researched, but which may be helpful if you need peer-to-peer (non-professional) support.
If you are a young person in crisis, feeling suicidal, or in need of a safe and judgement-free place to talk, you can also click here to contact the TrevorLifeline (which is staffed 24/7 with trained counselors).
### FEET ###
EXCERPT: “The Power of a Good/Meaningful Push” January 4, 2025
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Abhyasa, Art, Books, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Christmas, Dharma, Faith, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Meditation, Music, Mysticism, One Hoop, Pain, Peace, Pema Chodron, Philosophy, Religion, Science, Suffering, Tragedy, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: 12 Days of Christmas, 988, Caroline Myss, David Brewster, Dr. Robert Hooke, laws of motion, master teachers, New Year, precious jewels, relationship, Sir Isaac Newton, Stacey Flowers, Twelvetide, Yoga Sutra 4.29, Yoga Sutras 1.12-16
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“Happy New Year!” to everyone. “Merry Christmastide/Twelvetide!” to anyone observing.
May you be safe and protected / May you be peaceful and happy / May you be healthy and strong!
“Every body continues in its state of rest, or uniform motion in a right line, unless compelled to change that state by forces impressed upon it.”
— “Law 1” quoted from “Axioms, or Laws of Motion” in Philosophiæ Naturalis Principia Mathematica by Sir Isaac Newton (b. 1643)
NOTE: Some editions use the term “straight line.”
Click on the excerpt title below for the post about Sir Isaac Newton and how his “Laws of Motion” affect us on and off the mat (in surprising ways). The post includes a video by Stacey Flowers!
FTWMI: The Power of a Good/Meaningful Push
“I most gladly embrace your proposal of a private correspondence. What’s done before many witnesses is seldom without some further concerns than that for truth; but what passes between friends in private, usually deserves the name of consultation rather than contention; and so I hope it will prove between you and me….
But in the mean time, you defer too much to my ability in searching into this subject. What Descartes did was a good step. You have added much several ways, and especially in considering the colours of thin plates. If I have seen farther, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants.”
— quoted from a letter marked “Cambridge, February 5, 1675-76” from Sir Isaac Newton to Dr. Robert Hooke, as published in Memoirs of the Life, Writings, and Discoveries of Sir Isaac Newton by David Brewster
Please join me today (Saturday, January 4th) at 12:00 PM, for a 90-minute (virtual or in-person) yoga practice. You must be registered to attend in person. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Saturday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “01042022 New(ton’s) Beginnings”]
If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can dial 988 (in the US) or call 1-800-273-TALK (8255) for the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. You can also call this TALK line if you are struggling with addiction or involved in an abusive relationship. The Lifeline network is free, confidential, and available to all 24/7. YOU CAN TALK ABOUT ANYTHING.
White Flag is a new app, which I have not yet researched, but which may be helpful if you need peer-to-peer (non-professional) support.
If you are a young person in crisis, feeling suicidal, or in need of a safe and judgement-free place to talk, you can also click here to contact the TrevorLifeline (which is staffed 24/7 with trained counselors).
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.
### “Every relationship you develop, from casual to intimate, helps you become more conscious. No union is without spiritual value.” ~ Caroline Myss ###
A Quick Note & EXCERPTS: “Being Grateful for What Will Be” / “What Does It Mean to You?” October 23, 2024
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Abhyasa, Art, Books, Changing Perspectives, Faith, Gratitude, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Music, One Hoop, Pain, Philosophy, Religion, Science, Shemini Atzeret / Simchat Torah, Suffering, Sukkot, Vairagya, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: 988, Abraham Lincoln, cultivating gratitude, gratitude, Happiness, King Solomon, lojong, santosha, Sukkot
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“Chag sameach!” to those celebrating Sukkot! Many blessings to everyone and especially to anyone grateful for friendship, peace, freedom, understanding, and wisdom.
May everyone be healthy and strong; may everyone be peaceful and happy.
“And this too shall pass.”
— The old saying “Gam zeh ya’avor,“ in Hebrew (with Persian and Jewish origins)
Two questions have come up again and again over the last two weeks: “How could I spend my time?” and “What does happiness mean to you?” Both questions and this whole week of Sukkot — especially with yesterday’s focus on people who experienced major setbacks and “failures” — made me think of the phrase above that my grandmother often said. It also made me think about our overall perspectives, which is typically the underlying focus during my classes on October 23rd.*
CLICK ON THE EXCERPT TITLES BELOW FOR MORE!
“It is said an Eastern monarch once charged his wise men to invent him a sentence, to be ever in view, and which should be true and appropriate in all times and situations. They presented him the words: ‘And this, too, shall pass away.’ How much it expresses! How chastening in the hour of pride! — how consoling in the depths of affliction!”
— Abraham Lincoln speaking to the Wisconsin State Agriculture Society at the Wisconsin State Fair, September 30, 1859
Please join me today (Wednesday, October 23rd) at 4:30 PM or 7:15 PM for a yoga practice on Zoom. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “Sukkot 3”]
If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can dial 988 (in the US) or call 1-800-273-TALK (8255) for the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. You can also call this TALK line if you are struggling with addiction or involved in an abusive relationship. The Lifeline network is free, confidential, and available to all 24/7. YOU CAN TALK ABOUT ANYTHING.
White Flag is a new app, which I have not yet researched, but which may be helpful if you need peer-to-peer (non-professional) support.
If you are a young person in crisis, feeling suicidal, or in need of a safe and judgement-free place to talk, you can also click here to contact the TrevorLifeline (which is staffed 24/7 with trained counselors).
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.
*2024 PRACTICE NOTE: As I have repeatedly admitted, I have to work at keeping certain things simple. Point in case, I was in the process of remixing a playlist (combining two), because this seventh day of Sukkot coincides with the anniversary of the 1920 publication of Sinclair Lewis’s Main Street, the anniversary of the birth of Michael Crichton (b. 1942), and the birthday of “Weird Al” Yankovic (b. 1959).
Obviously, things didn’t work out as planned — and I’m not mad about it. In fact, I’m grateful.
### Books and music (especially those that inspire more art); People who create books, music, and other art; People who appreciate books, music, and other art. ###
More Than Love from Althea & Arthur (the “missing” Sunday post) *w/an extra 2025 note* August 26, 2024
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in "Impossible" People, Abhyasa, Art, Books, Changing Perspectives, Faith, Fitness, Gratitude, Harlem Globetrotters, Healing Stories, Health, Hope, Life, Loss, Love, Meditation, Men, Music, One Hoop, Pain, Philosophy, Poetry, Suffering, Tragedy, Vairagya, Vipassana, Wisdom, Women, Writing, Yoga.Tags: 988, Abhyasa, AIDS, Alice Marble, Althea Gibson, Angela Buxton, anti-Semitism, Arlyn Gajilan, Arnold Rampersad, Arthur Ashe, Billie Jean King, Black History Month, Camera Ashe, cardiovascular, Chicago Tribune staff, Dean Radin, Dr. Abraham Maslow, Dr. Reggie Weir, Ed Fitzgerald, Eric Fishl, Eric Goulder, Evonne Goolagong, Frank DeFord, Grand Slams, heart, HIV, Howard Thurman, inner game, Jeanne Moutoussamy, Johnnie Ashe, Louise Brough, Love, Men's Health, military, Neil Amdur, positive psychology, Racism, Rhiannon Walker, Richard Curtis, Serena Williams, siddhis, Swami Satchidananda, tennis, tennis elbow, Vairagya, Venus Williams, W. Timothy Gallwey, Yoga Sutra 1.2, Yoga Sutra 3.24, Yoga Sutra 3.37, Yoga Sutra 4.29, yoga sutras, Yoga Sutras 1.30-1.31
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Many blessings to everyone and especially to anyone observing the Dormition (Theotokos) Fast; and/or working to cultivate friendship, peace, freedom, understanding, and wisdom — especially when it gets hot (inside and outside).
Stay hydrated & be kind, y’all!
This is the “missing” for Sunday, August 25th. Technically, it is also the “long lost” post for the 2021 practice. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
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.
“III.24. Extraordinary strength, resulting from samyama on the concept of physical strength (the aphorism specifically mentions the strength of an elephant, which was undoubtedly the strongest creature in Patanjali’s world), but it might also include mental, moral, or spiritual strength. This could be interpreted as an exceptional form of mind-body control or as a mind-matter interaction effect. Swami Satchidananda sums up this siddhi with the comment, ‘You can lighten yourself; you can make yourself heavy. It’s all achieved by samyama. Do it; try it. Nice things will happen’ (p.188).”
“III.37. Siddhis may appear to be supernormal, but they are normal. This is not a description of a siddhi, but rather a caution to avoid regarding or attaining the siddhis as unnatural or supernormal, as that could become a distraction to sustaining and deepening samadhi.”
— quoted from the “Taxonomy” section of “Part I: From Legendary Yoga Superpowers… Chapter 7: The Siddhis” in Supernormal: Science, Yoga, and the Evidence for Extraordinary Psychic Abilities by Dean Radin, PhD
In the Yoga Sūtras, Patanjali defined yoga (“union”) as a moment when all the internal chatter fades away (YS 1.2) and devoted a whole chapter to describing the powers that come when you focus-concentrate-meditate on a single thing and harness the power of the entire mind-body. He also outlined a process by which one can become completely absorbed into (or merged with) the point of their focus-concentration-meditation. Some of it sounds magical, extraordinary, or supernatural; but, it’s actually extra ordinary and very much supernormal. The ability to be single-minded and absorbed into something (or someone) is something we all do at various times in our lives.
We do it when we are “in the zone” and we do it when we are in the “first blush” of love.
Being in the zone is what athletes call it when you are in the moment, see exactly what needs to be done, and can do it in a way that almost appears effortless. Things just fall into place. Sometimes it even feels effortless and magical to the person that is in the zone. (YS 4.29) Other times, an athlete may find themselves running into the same obstacles and hinderances described in the Yoga Sūtras (YS 1.30-1.31) — not realizing that they need to practice non-attachment. Patanjali recommended focusing on the breath and, thousands of years later, a tennis player and coach recommended the same thing.
“It is said that in breathing humans recapitulate the rhythm of the universe. When the mind is fastened to the rhythm of breathing, it tends to become absorbed and calm. Whether on or off the court, I know of no better way to begin to deal with anxiety than to place the mind on one’s breathing process.”
— quoted from the “Focus During a Match” section of “7. Concentration: Learning to Focus” in The Inner Game of Tennis: The Classic Guide to the Mental Side of Peak Performance by W. Timothy Gallwey
Letting go of your own ego and getting out of your own way are foundational lessons in The Inner Game of Tennis: The Classic Guide to the Mental Side of Peak Performance (1974) by W. Timothy Gallwey. A tennis player and coach, Mr. Gallwey used his own experiences to help others play better psychologically — because sometimes you can up your game by changing what you are doing mentally, emotionally, and even energetically. Years after The Inner Game of Tennis was published (and after he published a companion book in 1976), Mr. Gallwey found that people were applying his book to other areas and in other disciplines. So he wrote Inner Skiing (1977), The Inner Game of Golf (1981), The Inner Game of Winning (1985), The Inner Game of Music (1986), and The Inner Game of Work: Focus, Learning, Pleasure, and Mobility in the Workplace (1999), and The Inner Game of Stress: Outsmart Life’s Challenges, Fulfill Your Potential, Enjoy Yourself (2009). In each book, the bottom line is to get to a place where the mind is quiet.
Which brings us back to the other time when everything else disappears: love.
Love, nothing else matters — except in tennis.
“Perhaps this is why it is said that great poetry is born in silence. Great music and art are said to arise from the quiet depths of the unconscious, and true expressions of love are said to come from a source which lies beneath words and thoughts. So it is with the greatest efforts in sports; they come when the mind is as still as a glass lake.
Such moments have been called ‘peak experiences’ by the humanistic psychologist Dr. Abraham Maslow.”
— quoted from the “‘Trying Hard’: A Questionable Virtue” section of “3. Quieting Self 1” in The Inner Game of Tennis: The Classic Guide to the Mental Side of Peak Performance by W. Timothy Gallwey
Full disclosure: When I was growing up, I was the only person in my immediate family who didn’t play tennis. So, there are a bunch of things about tennis that just don’t make sense to me. For instance, why does “love” mean “zero” in tennis? There are a lot of different theories about why “love” equals “zero” in tennis. Some of these theories don’t have a lot of supporting evidence; they just seem like old wives tales that may or may not be true. They stick around, however, because they are funny. For instance, there is the idea that English speakers were mispronouncing the French word l’ œuf (“egg”) — so it sounded like they were saying “love” — and that the number zero looks like an egg. This is sometimes paired with the idea that if you make a bunch of mistakes (and score no points) you’ve laid a goose egg. The biggest problem with this theory is that when in France, where tennis was first developed, people simply used the word zéro.
Another prevalent (and possibly more credible) theory about the term, that dates back to the 1700s, is that when you have no score, but you still give it all you’ve got, then you are playing for the love of the game. This is a slightly more credible theory, because, according to the Webster’s 1828 Dictionary, the word “amateur” comes from the Latin words anator (“a lover”) and amo (“to love”), referring to a person who does something for love rather than for money.
Of course, every professional begins as an amateur and one could argue that every professional wants to feel the way they did when they were an amateur — as if nothing else matters, but that moment and the love of the game in that moment. And, this is where things get interesting; because, in tennis, the most prestigious tournaments are “open” to amateurs and professionals. They all play for the same stakes. They all play with love so palpable it can make other people fall in love with the game. Some even play with the kind of passion that can also change the face of the game.
“I always wanted to be somebody. If I made it, it’s half because I was game enough to take a lot of punishment along the way and half because there were a lot of people who cared enough to help me.”
— quoted I Always Wanted to Be Somebody by Althea Gibson, edited by Ed Fitzgerald
Born today in 1927, Althea Gibson was a professional tennis player as well as a professional golfer. In 1949, she was the first Black woman and the second Black athlete (after Dr. Reggie Weir) to play in the National Indoor Championships hosted by the United States Lawn Tennis Association (USLTA, now known as the USTA). While she earned a full athletic scholarship to Florida A&M University (FAMU) and was considered an elite athlete all around the world, her race and ethnicity meant that she was not able to play in some of the most prestigious competitions in the world. To be clear, USTA had anti-discrimination rules in the 1950s; however, to qualify for certain tournaments, a player had to have a certain amount of points. In order to earn those points, a player had to play (and place) at a number of tournaments. Of course, some tournaments were held at clubs that were white-only — which meant that a player like Althea Gibson couldn’t play.
The first crack in that glass ceiling came when American Tennis Association (ATA) officials and 18 time Grand Slam championship-winner Alice Marble very publicly lobbied for Althea Gibson to be the first African-American to receive an invitation to the Nationals. Three days after her 23rd birthday, Ms. Gibson made her debut at Forest Hills and won. The world took notice; even though she ultimately lost the next match (in a delayed round) to Louise Brough, the then three-time defending Wimbledon champion, who also lobbied for inclusion.
Six years later, in 1956, Althea Gibson became the first African-American to win a Grand Slam event when she won the singles crown at the French Championships (now known as the French Open). She and Angela Buxton (from the United Kingdom) also won the doubles. Later that season, she won the championships in Rome, Italy; New Delhi, India; and Ceylon (now Sri Lanka). The following year, and the year after that, she won both Wimbledon and the US Nationals (which preceded the US Open) and was named “Female Athlete of the Year” by the Associated Press. (1957 was also the year she beat Louise Brough, who by then had won 35 major championships.)
“According to [American sculpture Eric] Goulder, each [of the five granite blocks] represents the ‘boxes’ society puts people in. [Althea] Gibson’s image emerges from the highest one, which balances on its corner to emphasize how she transformed the world’s view of African American athletes.
‘Her shoulder is exposed to make clear that those who followed stand on her shoulder,’ said Goulder. The final box, which is aligned differently from the others, is meant to show that the world has changed, but not entirely.
Its inscription reads: ‘I hope that I have accomplished just one thing: that I have been a credit to tennis and my country.’”
— quoted from the August 26, 2019, Reuters article “Trailblazer Althea Gibson honoured with statue at U.S. Open” by Arlyn Gajilan
Overall, Althea Gibson won a total of 11 Grand Slam events — including five singles titles, five doubles titles, and one mixed doubles title. In 1964, she became the first African-American woman to join the Ladies Professional Golf Association (LPGA) tour, where she broke course records and was among the 50 money winners for fives years. She was inducted into the International Tennis Hall of Fame (in 1971); was one of the first six inductees into the International Women’s Sports Hall of Fame (in 1980); and, in 2007, on the 50th anniversary of her first victory at the US National Championships, she was inducted into the US Open Court of Champions.
Althea Gibson was also inducted into the the Florida Sports Hall of Fame, the Black Athletes Hall of Fame, the Sports Hall of Fame of New Jersey, the New Jersey Hall of Fame, the International Scholar-Athlete Hall of Fame, and the National Women’s Hall of Fame. Additionally, she received a Candace Award from the National Coalition of 100 Black Women (in 1988) and was the first woman to receive the National Collegiate Athletic Association’s Theodore Roosevelt Award (in 1991). In 2000, Sports Illustrated placed her at #30 on their “100 Greatest Female Athletes” list. In 2013, the United States Postal Service honored her with a postage stamp and, in 2019, a bust of her was unveiled outside of the USTA Billie Jean King National Tennis Center in Flushing Meadows, where the US Open is now held.
“In a statement Sunday, tennis champion and activist Billie Jean King had this to say: ‘We all know people who influence us and, if we are lucky, we meet a few in our lives who improve us. Althea Gibson improved my life and the lives of countless others. She was the first to break so many barriers, and from the first time I saw her play, when I was 13 years old, she became, and remained, one of my true heroines.
‘It was truly an inspiration for me to watch her overcome adversity. Her road to success was a challenging one, but I never saw her back down. Althea did a lot for people in tennis, but she did even more for people in general.’”
— quoted from the September 29, 2003, Chicago Tribune article “Althea Gibson” (by the Chicago Tribune staff)
Even though Ms. Gibson broke so many color barriers that people compared her to Jackie Robinson, she couldn’t overcame all the obstacles put in her way. Despite winning multiple times at Wimbledon, she and her doubles partner, Angela Buxton, who was Jewish, were denied membership to the All England Club on more than one occasion.1 While many of the competitors that she beat were receiving endorsement deals, similar deals never came her way. That sort of racism and prejudice led her to join the LPGA, but even there she ran into literal barriers to entry. Sometimes she was not allowed to compete. Sometimes she had to change clothes in her car, because the clubs, hotels, and dressing rooms were segregated and no accommodations were available to her. While the highest earners (during the years she played on the tour) averaged, almost $35,000 a year, Althea Gibson’s lifetime golf earnings were under $25,000 (plus or minus a car she won at a Dinah Shore tournament).
Despite the ongoing challenges, Althea Gibson kept persevering. Maybe one of the reasons she never seemed to back down was because she was always fighting to survive. She dropped out of school when she was 13 years old and ran away from home because her father was abusive. At one point she lived in a Catholic shelter for abused children. By that time, she was already a paddle tennis champion in New York City and her neighbors had pooled their resources together to purchase her a junior membership and lessons at the Cosmopolitan Tennis Club in the Sugar Hill section of Harlem. But, young Althea didn’t initially love tennis. It was a means to an end; it was one of her many means of escape.
“‘Being a champ is all well and good,’ I would tell the well-meaning people who asked me about my retirement, ‘but you can’t eat a crown. Nor can you send the Internal Revenue Service a throne clipped to their tax forms. The landlord and grocer and tax collector are funny that way: they like cold cash. I may be the Queen of Tennis right now, but I reign over an empty bank account, and I’m not going to fill it by playing amateur tennis, even if I remain champ from now until Judgement Day.’”
— quoted from “So Much to Live For” in So Much to Live For by Althea Gibson with Richard Curtis
In addition to being an accomplished athlete, Althea Gibson was also a singer, a saxophone player, an actor, a sports analyst, and an author. She turned to all of those mediums in an effort to support herself and pushed the limits of everything she did so that each industry was better than she found it. She even opened for the Harlem Globetrotters by playing exhibition games with Karol Fageros and ran for public office. For much of her adult life, she was also a mentor and coach. She facilitated Pepsi Cola’s national mobile tennis project in underprivileged areas and ran multiple other clinics and tennis outreach programs. She inspired her competitors, as well as players in subsequent generations: like Billie Jean King and Serena and Venus Williams.
The Williams sisters, in particular, sought advice on how to play and how to deal with racism (on and off the court). In fact, Serena Williams won her first (of six) US Open titles in 1999, shortly after faxing a letter and a series of questions to Ms. Gibson. In 2000 and 2001, Venus Williams followed in Althea Gibson’s footsteps by winning back-to-back championships at Wimbledon and the US Open. Like Evonne Goolagong, the Australian Aboriginal (Wiradjuri) athlete who became the second non-White woman to win a Grand Slam championship (in 1971), the Williams Sisters and other African-American athletes experienced a different financial landscape than Althea Gibson, but they still had to deal with racism and prejudice.
“You can’t compare tennis with baseball, basketball, or football. When Jackie Robinson broke the color line in 1947 with the Brooklyn Dodgers, dozens of good baseball players in the Negro leagues were waiting to follow. When Althea Gibson, the first prominent black in tennis, won national grass-court titles at Forest Hills in 1957 and 1958, there was no reservoir of black talent waiting to walk in if the door ever opened. Blacks had no identification the sport — on or off the court.”
— quoted from “3. The Passage” in Off the Court by Arthur Ashe with Neil Amdur
Another person Althea Gibson inspired was Arthur Ashe, who who won the US Amateur Championships today in 1968. A couple of weeks later, on September 9th, the Army lieutenant at West Point, followed in Althea Gibson’s footsteps: winning the first US Open and becoming the first African-American man to win a Grand Slam event. He also became the first person (period) to win the US Amateur and the US Open in the same calendar year. These were not his first, nor his last, groundbreaking achievements in tennis. In 1963, he was the first Black player selected for the US Davis Cup team and, so far, he has been the only Black man to win the singles titles at Wimbledon, the US Open, and the Australian Open.
Up until 1968, the US National Championship events were held at a variety of locations and only open to amateurs. When it became the US Open, it was open to professionals as well as to amateurs — which is what Arthur Ashe was at the time. In fact, he was the underdog, going up against a professional. He was also active duty, during a war — his younger brother Johnnie accepted an extra tour in Vietnam, which allowed him to compete since the United States had a policy against sending brothers into a war zone. First Lieutenant Ashe’s amateur status meant that his prize money went to the runner up.
“‘Money makes me happy.’ Who would make such a crass remark? I did, in my book Portrait in Motion, written with Frank DeFord. But the truth is that I’m glad I have enough money to live comfortably, and I enjoyed adding to my bank account as I earned money on the tennis court and in various business deals when I was a professional. I was not born poor, but my father was hardly rich. I long ago decided that, on the whole, I much prefer having money to not having it. In that sense, it makes me happy.
On the other hand, I also learned a long time ago what money can and cannot do for me. From what we get, we can make a living; what we give, however, makes a life.”
— quoted from “6. The Striving and Achieving” in Days of Grace: A Memoir by Arthur Ashe and Arnold Rampersad
Arthur Ashe was inducted into the Virginia Sports Hall of Fame (in 1979), the Intercollegiate Tennis Association (ITA) Hall of Fame (in 1983), and the International Tennis Hall of Fame (in 1985). In 1975, he received the inaugural Player of the Year Award from the Association of Tennis Professionals (ATP) and was named the BBC Overseas Sports Personality of the Year. In 1977, other players on the ATP-tour awarded him the ATP Sportsmanship Award. In December 1992, just a few months before he died, he received the “Sports Legend” Award from the American Sportscasters Association. In 1993, he was posthumously awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom by President Bill Clinton, the Congressional Black Caucus Foundation’s George Thomas “Mickey” Leland Award, and ATP’s Arthur Ashe Humanitarian of the Year Award by the ATP. He was also an author and an Emmy Award winner. In 1997, the newly constructed Arthur Ashe Stadium became the largest venue at the USTA Billie Jean King National Tennis Center in Flushing Meadows, home of the US Open. “Soul in Flight,” a statue sculpted by Eric Fishl, was unveiled in 2000 as a memorial to Arthur Ashe and to the spirit of sportsmanship and humanitarianism that he embodied. In 2005, the United States Postal Service issued a commemorative stamp in his honor.
Throughout his career, Arthur Ashe was an activist. He was part of the Civil Rights Movement in the United States and also part of the anti-apartheid movement in South Africa. He also advocated for Haitian refugees and was a campaign chairman for the American Heart Association. In 1983, he contracted HIV after a blood transfusion during heart bypass surgery and, when he announced his diagnosis in April of 1992, he became a very public HIV/AIDS advocate and educator. He also founded the Arthur Ashe Foundation for the Defeat of AIDS and the Arthur Ashe Institute for Urban Health.
“Perhaps my favorite prayer-poem by Howard Thurman is ‘The Threads In My Hand.’ The speaker of the poem says that he holds only one end of a number of threads, which come to him from ‘many ways, linking my life with others.’ Some threads come from the sick and troubled, some from the dreaming and ambitious; still others are knotted beyond the speaker’s power to understand and unravel. But one thread is different from all others:
One thread is a strange thread—it is my steadying thread;
When I am lost, I pull it hard and find my way.
When I am saddened, I tighten my grip and gladness glides along its quivering path;
When the waste places of my spirit appear in arid confusion,
the thread becomes a channel of newness in life.
One thread is a strange thread—it is my steadying thread.
God’s hand holds the other end…”
— quoted from “10. The Threads in My Hands” in Days of Grace: A Memoir by Arthur Ashe and Arnold Rampersad
In chapter 10 of Days of Grace: A Memoir, Arthur Ashe described himself as “a fortunate, blessed man… [with] no problems” — aside from two really major health problems. Those two health problems were not the one’s most commonly associated with tennis players. In fact, neither Arthur Ashe nor Althea Gibson seemed to have dealt with the one of the health issues most commonly associated with a non-contact sports like tennis: “tennis elbow” — which is a bit of misnomer. While 50% of tennis players report elbow pain — 75% of which is considered true “tennis elbow” — tennis players only make up about 10% of all the cases of nationwide. In other words, you can have “tennis elbow” even if you’ve never played tennis. It’s simply a repetitive stress issue. So, if you do certain movements repeatedly, without stability, you could end up with tendonitis or tendinosis. Tennis, even when done on a table, is very asymmetrical; making unilateral stability a priority.
But, neither of these record-breaking seemed to have a problem with tendonitis or tendinosis. Unfortunately and ironically, Althea Gibson and Arthur Ashe both had cardiovascular issues.
Two cerebral hemorrhages, in the late 1980s, a stroke in 1992, and related medical expenses left Althea Gibson in dire straits. No help was forthcoming when she reached out to various tennis organizations; however, Angela Buxton, her former doubles partner, was able to engage the tennis community and raised nearly $1 million in donations from around the world. In 2003, she suffered a heart attack and then, later that year, died from complications related to respiratory and bladder infections.
Arthur Ashe had a family history of cardiovascular disease and was 36 years old when he suffered his first heart attack in 1979. His heart was in such bad condition, despite his athleticism, that he needed a quadruple bypass. A few months later, he had to delay his return to tennis, because of chest pains. In 1983, he had a second bypass surgery — which is when it is believed he contracted HIV. Paralysis in his right arm led to a battery of tests, exploratory brain surgery, and the HIV diagnosis. Due to the stigma associated with HIV and AIDS, Arthur Ashe and his wife initially decided that the best way to protect their young daughter was by not publicly disclosing his diagnosis. In the fall of 1992, he had a second heart attack and learned that a newspaper was planning to release his diagnosis. A few months later, in 1993, he died from AIDS-related pneumonia.
“By the time you read this letter from me to you for the first time, I may not be around to discuss with you what I have written here. Perhaps I will still be with you and your mother, sharing in your daily lives, in your joys and in your sorrows. However, I may be gone. You would doubtless be sad that I am gone, and remember me clearly for a while. Then I will exist only as a memory already beginning to fade in your mind. Although it is natural for memories to fade, I am writing this letter in the hope that your recollection of me will never fade completely.”
— quoted from “11. My Dear Camera” in Days of Grace: A Memoir by Arthur Ashe and Arnold Rampersad
As I mentioned before, I grew up as the non-playing member of a tennis-loving family. Most of the time I didn’t mind not playing tennis, because I was absorbed in other things. I loved other things. There was one time, however, when I was really grateful that I didn’t play — and so were my parents.
It was during a time when we were living in the Maryland-D.C. area, late 70s or early 80s. If memory serves me2 — and if I go by the 1981 publication date of Off the Court — I was probably have been as old as 12 or 13. Either way, I was small (spoiler alert: I have always been small). Since I wasn’t playing in the tournament, I wasn’t restricted to certain areas the way my brothers were restricted. So, my parents lifted me over the fence with a copy of Arthur Ashe’s autobiography. Being the man that he was, he didn’t hesitate to sign it.
It was a very memorable day that I will never forget, but, to him, it was: “Just another day at the office…”
“…he told the Baltimore Sun’s Jim Caffrey[,] ‘I never get too excited about winning anything; it’s just my philosophy of life.’”
— quoted from the August 13, 2017, Andscape (“#RememberWhensdays”) article, “The day Arthur Ashe became the first black man to win the US Open: Ashe earned the top ranking in the country with the five-set victory” by Rhiannon Walker
Sunday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “08252021 Love from Althea & Arthur”]
NOTES: 1The All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club (AELTC), also known as the All England Club, is a private members’ club in Wimbledon, London, England. Established on July 23, 1868, the majority of the nearly 600 members are are Full Members — who, along with Life Members and Honorary Members, make up no more than 500 members. A little over 50 members are Temporary Members of Junior Temporary Members.
To be placed on the waiting list, full and temporary membership candidates must submit an application with formal letters of support from four existing full members, “two of whom must have known the applicant for at least three years.” While some honorary members are occasionally elected by the club’s committee, “past [Wimbledon] Singles Champions, other eminent Lawn Tennis players…” are typically (and automatically) invited to become honorary members. While Black players and Jewish players were theoretically eligible to join the club in 1951 and 1952, respectively, neither Althea Gibson nor her doubles partner Angela Buxton (who retired at the age of 22, because of tenosynovitis) ever made the cut.
2In July 2025, my father randomly texted me about getting Arthur Ashe’s autograph. He remembered it being on a program, which would have made me a lot younger than the age I remembered.
CORRECTION: During the 2024 practice, I referred to Arthur Ashe as a photographer; however, I was confusing him with his wife, the photographer and graphic artist Jeanne Moutoussamy.
Extreme heat can not only make people lethargic and unmotivated, it can also lead to extreme agitation and anxiety-based fear. We may find it hard to think, hard to feel (or process our feelings), and/or hard to control our impulses. If you are struggling in the US, help is available just by dialing 988.
If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can dial 988 (in the US) or call 1-800-273-TALK (8255) for the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. You can also call this TALK line if you are struggling with addiction or involved in an abusive relationship. The Lifeline network is free, confidential, and available to all 24/7. YOU CAN TALK ABOUT ANYTHING.
White Flag is a new app, which I have not yet researched, but which may be helpful if you need peer-to-peer (non-professional) support.
If you are a young person in crisis, feeling suicidal, or in need of a safe and judgement-free place to talk, you can also click here to contact the TrevorLifeline (which is staffed 24/7 with trained counselors).
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The McGuffin’s MacGuffin, redux & reprised (the “missing” Tuesday post) August 13, 2024
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Abhyasa, Art, Books, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Faith, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Mantra, Meditation, Movies, Music, One Hoop, Pain, Peace, Philosophy, Science, Suffering, Tragedy, Vairagya, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: 988, Ahimsa, ahimsā, Alfred Hitchcock, Angus MacPhail, antiracism, Ashtavakra Gita, Berlin Wall, Bhagavad Gita, Charles Gounod, Charlotte Chandler, Eleanor Roosevelt, Epictetus, fear, fearless, fearless play, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Ibram X. Kendi, Jack Hawley, James Allardic, Jeff Alexander, klishtaklishta, klişţāklişţāh, Leland Poague, MacGuffin, nervous system, Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, Paul Tillich, Potsdam Conference, Richard Freeman, Seneca, Shantipat, Stanley Wilson, Swami J, Swami Jnaneshvara Bharati, Thích Nhất Hạnh, Thich Nhat Hanh, Thomas Leitch, Todd McGowan, trauma, Upanishads, Wookiefoot, yama, Yoga Sutra 2.3, Yoga Sutra 2.9, ābhiniveśāḥ
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Many blessings to anyone observing Tisha B’Av and to everyone cultivating friendship, peace, freedom, and wisdom — especially when it gets hot (inside and outside).
Stay hydrated & be kind, y’all!
This is the “missing” for Tuesday, August 13th. Technically, it is also the “long lost” post for 2023 and a portion of the 2022 practice. It includes some previously posted information. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
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“Upanishad is the subtler, mystical or yogic teachings of the philosophy and practices leading to the direct experience of the center of consciousness, the absolute reality. ‘Upa’ means ‘near;’ ‘ni’ means ‘down;’ ‘shad’ means ‘to sit.’ Thus, Upanishad is to sit down near the teacher to discuss, learn, practice and experience the means and goals of Yoga sadhana or practices. The Upanishads are also known as Vedanta, which means the end or culmination of the Vedas.”
— quoted from the “Upanishad” page by Swami Jnaneshvara Bharati (“Swami J”)
Often translated as “sitting near devotedly,” “Upanishad” is the Sanskrit word assigned to a collection of sacred texts, the earliest of which were compiled (starting) in the last centuries of the 1st millennium BCE. The stories within the Upanishads were originally part of an oral tradition and they explain and explore the Vedas (which are more sacred texts). Scholars believe there were originally over 200 Upanishads, with some overlapping material; however, some have been lost. Of the 108 studied and practiced today, ten to twelve (depending on the tradition) are consider “major” and complete. Each one begins and ends with an invocation known as a Shantipat: a path of peace.
We start each practice with the “Teaching Shantipat” and I often bring awareness to the end: “Shanti Shanti Shanthi Om” / “Peace [within us], Peace [all around us], Peace [to and from everything and every one we encounter] With our conscious, subconscious, and unconscious mind and on every plane of existence.” The last “Shanthi” is emphatic, drawn out, and sometimes explained as “Peace [because I said so]” or “Peace [because I demand it].”
While the endings are the same, the beginnings of each of the shantipats are different. They are situational. So, today, I bring your awareness to the beginning of the “Teaching Shantipat.”
“May all of us together be protected….”
— quoted from the beginning of the “Teaching Shantipat,” chanted in Sanskrit by Richard Freeman (when we are in the studio)
The beginning of the “Teaching Shantipat.” is interesting (to me), because it is very similar to the beginning of the metta meditation: “May I be safe and protected.”
I find it very interesting that this invocation begins with a desire, a wish, a prayer for safety and protection. You could even think of it as a commitment — similar to ahiṃsā (“non-harming” or “non-violence”), which is the very first yama (external “restraint” or universal commandment) at the beginning of the Yoga Philosophy. The underlying implication to all of this is that there is something — or someone — from which we need to be protected; that there is some danger of which we must be mindful. In other words, it is almost a warning that there is something to fear.
Fear is an emotional response to a perceived threat. It doesn’t matter if what we perceive turns out not to be a threat; because, the emotion is real. The emotional reaction causes a physiological response: it activates the sympathetic nervous system, which causes a chemical change in the brain and a change in organ function. These changes are designed to protect and ensure survival, causing us to fight or flee or freeze (which is a form of collapse). This can all take place in a blink of an eye and in a heartbeat — even, again, when the perceived threat turns out to not be a threat and/or not a threat to survival. Although the initial reaction can occur in an instant, it takes a while to come down off of the adrenaline high and, depending on the reality and nature of the threat, the effects of the trauma can be life-long.
“It is not that you must be free from fear. The moment you try to free yourself from fear, you create resistance against fear. Resistance in any form does not end fear. What is needed, rather than running away or controlling or suppressing, is understanding fear; that means, watch it, learn about it, come directly into contact with it, not how to escape from it, not how to resist it.”
— Jiddu Krishnamurti
Yoga Sūtras 2.3 and 2.9 describe ābhiniveśāḥ (“resistance to loss, fear of death of identity, desire for continuity, clinging to the life of”) as the fifth and final afflicted/dysfunctional thought pattern that leads to suffering. This is consistent with the Ashtavakra Gita, which states “All sorrow comes from fear. / From nothing else. // When you know this, / You become free of it, / And desire melts away.” (AG 11.5) According to the Eastern philosophies, like Yoga and Buddhism, the remedy to fear is wisdom, which is considered to be the opposite of fear.
Wisdom is the ability, knowledge, and skill to respond to a given situation with awareness. Without wisdom, we react as if everything and everyone is a threat to our life, our livelihood, and those we love. We become like a “timid man” who flees because he perceives everything picked up by our senses as a tiger. (AG 18.45) We see this fear-based behavior each and every day, even when we don’t recognize that that is what we are seeing/experiencing. Wisdom, in this case, can also be defined as vidyā (“correct knowledge”) about ourselves and the nature of everything. It gives us the ability to pause, take a breath, and possibly discover that “Just as a coil of rope / Is mistaken for a snake, / So you are mistaken for the world” (AG 1.10) and that “a man without desires is a lion.” (AG 18.46)
“‘Work hard in the world, Arjuna, but for work‘s sake only. You have every right to work but you should not crave the fruits of it. Although no one may deny you the outcomes of your efforts, you can, through determination, refuse to be attached to or affected by the results, whether favorable or unfavorable.
“‘The central points of issue, Arjuna, are desire and lack of inner peace. Desire for the fruits of one‘s actions brings worry about possible failure — the quivering mind I mentioned. When you are preoccupied with end results you pull yourself from the present into an imagined, usually fearful future. Then your anxiety robs your energy and, making matters worse, you lapse into inaction and laziness.’”
— Krishna speaking to Arjuna (2.47) in The Bhagavad Gita: A Walkthrough for Westerners by Jack Hawley
“You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face…. You must do what you think you cannot do.”
— quoted from You Learn by Living: Eleven Keys for a More Fulfilling Life by Eleanor Roosevelt
This tricky thing about fear is that the mind-intellect can perceive and process things in the past, present, and/or future; which means we may find ourselves having a fear-based reaction to something in the past or something that has not (and may never) happen. This is why fear can prevent us from achieving our goals and desires. It can also cause us to build walls — emotionally, energetically, symbolically, and physically. In fact, construction of the Berlin Wall, which began today on Sunday, August 13, 1961, was at the intersection of a lot of fear.
Remember, during the Potsdam Conference at the end of World War II, the Allies decided to split Berlin and the rest of Germany into four different regions controlled by four different nations. The Soviet-controlled areas became the German Democratic Republic (GDR or DDR; German: Deutsche Demokratische Republik), also known as East Germany. The areas controlled by United States, the United Kingdom, and France became the Federal Republic of Germany (German: Bundesrepublik Deutschland), sometimes called Bonn Republic (German: Bonner Republik), and known as West Germany. East and West Berlin, as well as East and West Germany, ended up with vastly different socioeconomic and political cultures. Right off the bat, people on the East side would travel to East Berlin in order to crossover to West Berlin and then, from there, gained access to the rest of the “Free World.” In fact, prior to the wall being constructed approximately 3.5 million people defected from East Berlin — at a rate of about one thousand a day.
The wall did not go up all at once. It started off as a little over 100 miles of barbed wire and fencing put up in the wee hours of that Sunday morning in 1961: 156 km (97 mi) between the western regions and the eastern regions and another 43 km (27 mi) of wire dividing the cities of Berlin. Then a 6-foot tall wall of blocks was constructed, with bunkers. Within nine years, that 6-foot wall of blocks had become a 3.6-meter (11.8-foot) tall wall, with the barbed wire (and guards in the towers). The final wall included 155 km (96 miles) of wall around West Berlin and another 111.9 km (69.5 miles) of barrier between West Berlin and East Germany.
The wall decreased the number of defections; however, it did not completely prevent them. Between 1961 and 1989, when the Berlin Wall “fell,” about 100,000 people attempted to defect and approximately five thousand succeeded. An estimated 136 — 200 people died attempting to escape. Many of the deaths were in and around a gap created between two concrete walls which formed the 27 miles of barrier dividing Berlin. Known as the “death strip,” the gap was full of anti-vehicle trenches, guard dog runs, floodlights, and trip-wire machine guns. It was also overseen by guards in watchtowers who were ordered to shoot on sight.
Remember, although decades had passed, the construction of the Berlin Wall happened in the wake of World War II. People were still processing the trauma caused by the violence of the war and of the Holocaust, which were themselves the source and result of fear.
“However, if the process of non-violence is to be effective in counteracting violence, we must first describe and outline it clearly and methodically. Because violent thoughts always precede a violent act, an act of non-violence will be effective only if it is preceded by non-violent thoughts. Violence is an active phenomenon, whereas non-violence is mistakenly thought to be passive – simply the absence of violence. But passive non-violence has no power to extinguish the fire if violence. Non-violence must be as active as violence itself.”
— commentary on Yoga Sūtra 2.33 from The Practice of the Yoga Sutra: Sadhana Pada by Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, PhD
“The opposite of racist isn’t ‘not racist.’ It is ‘anti-racist.’ What’s the difference? One endorses either the idea of a racial hierarchy as a racist, or racial equality as an anti-racist. One either believes problems are rooted in groups of people, as a racist, or locates the roots of problems in power and policies, as an anti-racist. One either allows racial inequities to persevere, as a racist, or confronts racial inequities, as an anti-racist. There is no in-between safe space of ‘not racist.’”
— quoted from How to Be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi, PhD
When I first heard about Dr. Ibram X. Kendi, who was born in Jamaica, New York City on August 13, 1982, I thought the term “antiracist” was something new. In reality, however, Dr. Kendi recommends and teaches an idea that goes back to the beginning of the yoga philosophy. (NOTE: I’m not saying he’s teaching “yoga,” even though he is working to bring people together. I’m saying that he is teaching ancient wisdom.)
This wisdom is not simply bringing awareness to a situation and neither is it not doing something overtly harmful. It is bringing awareness to what is happening beneath the surface and actively, skillfully, moving in the opposite direction. Again, the premise behind “cultivating the opposites” is that, over time, we neutralize the force of past actions and, as a result, our habits and thoughts change. When our habits and thoughts change, the world changes. Doing this work can be scary — in fact, you may already feel yourself tightening up just at the thought. But, we must remember that being fearless is not the absence of fear, it is how we show up when we experience fear.
“Courage is the strength to do what is right in the face of fear, as the anonymous philosopher tells us. I gain insight into what’s right from antiracist ideas. I gain strength from fear. While many people are fearful of what could happen if they resist, I am fearful of what could happen if I don’t resist, I am fearful of cowardice. Cowardice is the inability to amass the strength to do what is right in the face of fear. And racist power has been terrorizing cowardice into us for generations.”
— quoted from How to Be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi, PhD
None of this is about being reckless and putting ourselves (or others) in danger. Neither is it about ignoring reality. Instead, the philosophers and leaders quoted throughout this post encourage us to face our fears. Again, this is not new advice. As noted above, it is the same advice found in ancient texts from India and (as noted below) it is the same advice found in the teachings of the Stoics. In fact, I imagine that if you research all the indigenous and modern cultures in the world, you will find lessons on fear and advice on cultivating fearlessness that is very, very similar.
Furthermore, we have plenty of opportunities to practice studying, observing, learning about, and understanding our fears. We can do it on the mat or the cushion; we can do it as we move through our days; and we can do it when some form of entertainment push our buttons.
“[Spoken: Alfred Hitchcock]
Thus far, this album has provided musical accompaniment to make your passing pleasant
Our next number is designed to drown out the sound of shovels
Music to be buried by
[Music begins]
Of course, your assassin may have made burial unnecessary
So, if you are completely encased in cement
And are teetering on the edge of a pier
Please try not to pay attention to this next number
It is not meant for you
As for the others, if you spend your evenings watching murder instead of doing it yourself
You may recognize this”
— quoted from Track 5, “Alfred Hitchcock Television Theme” on the album Alfred Hitchcock Presents Music to Be Murdered By by Alfred Hitchcock and Jeff Alexander (narration written by James Allardice; “Funeral March Of A Marionette” by Charles Gounod adapted by Jeff Alexander and Stanley Wilson)
Born today in London, today in 1899, Sir Alfred Hitchcock KBE liked to play with fear(s) and push people’s fear buttons. He directed and produced movies like The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog (1927); Blackmail (1929), was the first British “talkie;” The 39 Steps (1935); The Lady Vanishes (1938); Rebecca (1940); Shadow of a Doubt (1943); Strangers on a Train (1951), Dial M for Murder and Rear Window (both released in 1954); Psycho (1960); To Catch a Thief and The Trouble with Harry (both released in 1955); Vertigo (1958); North by Northwest (1959), and The Birds (1963). He was also the producer and host of the television anthology Alfred Hitchcock Presents (1955–65) and often made cameo appearances in his own movies. Like so many directors and producers, he liked to work with certain people, including Cary Grant and James Stewart (who were each in four movies) and Ingrid Bergman and Grace Kelly (who were each in three movies).
In addition to having nine of his films selected for preservation in the United States National Film Registry (as of 2021), Alfred Hitchcock received the British Academy of Film and Television Arts (BAFTA) Fellowship in 1971, the American Film Institute (AFI) Life Achievement Award in 1979, and was knighted in December of that 1979, just a few months before he died on April 29, 1980. His work also earned him six Academy Awards and an additional 40 Academy Award nominations — including five in the Best Director category.
Despite never winning the Academy Award for Best Director, the “Master of Suspense” did such a good job at manipulating emotional responses that even hearing the music (often composed by Bernard Herrmann), seeing a murder of crows or a rear window, and/or being in the shower can start tightening up the body. His name, voice, and infamous silhouette became so synonymous with his work that they can also activate the fear response. Another common Hitchcockian element was a simple plot device that existed long before he was born. It became more popular and more well-known by a name coined by the screenwriter Angus MacPhail1: MacGuffin (or McGuffin).
“Hitchcock explained how the MacGuffin got its name:
‘Two men are traveling on a train to Scotland. One of them is carrying an odd parcel. The other man says, “What have you there?” and the other answers, “A MacGuffin.”
‘“What’s a MacGuffin?”
‘“It’s a special device designed to trap wild lions in the Scottish Highlands.”
‘“But there aren’t any lions in the Scottish Highlands.”
‘“Then, there is no MacGuffin.”
‘The MacGuffin, you see, is only important if you think it’s important, and that’s my job as a director, to make you think it’s important.’”
— quoted from “II. British Films: Cub Director” in It’s Only a Movie: Alfred Hitchcock: A Personal Biography by Charlotte Chandler2
A McGuffin (or MacGuffin) can be anything — or anyone — that people in the movie are seeking. It could be a briefcase (or something inside a suitcase). It could be a jewel-encrusted statuette. It could be $40,000 or, as some people see it, a place in the snow where $920,000 was buried. It could be state secrets. It could be A Girl. While the MacGuffin (or McGuffin) motivates the characters and keeps the plot moving, it is the exact opposite of Checkov’s gun because it is ultimately inconsequential. The characters seem to forget about it or just put it aside. In fact, sometimes it is as if it was never in the story. Other times it is just never revealed to the audience.
A McGuffin (or MacGuffin) should not be confused with a “red herring,” because it is not intended to confuse or misdirect the audience. However, to be clear, Sir Alfred’s movies also include red herrings — sometimes in the form of suspenseful music or shadows that keep the audience primed for something to happen. In other words, the MacGuffin (or McGuffin) motivates the characters and puts them in their situations, while the red herring conditions the audience to fear on command.
“Hitchcock’s example of the MacGuffin emphasizes its impossible status: not only is the object that one [never has], but one cannot even isolate it as an idea. It remains necessarily empty, and yet functions as an engine for the Hitchcockian narrative. The emptiness of the MacGuffin as an object permits spectators to locate their satisfaction in the striving that it unleashes rather than identifying satisfaction with the discovery of its secret.”
— quoted from “The Empty Object” in “27. Hitchcock’s Ethics of Suspense: Psychoanalysis and the Devaluation of the Object” by Todd McGowan (as published in A Companion to Alfred Hitchcock, edited by Thomas Leitch and Leland Poague)
Take a moment to bring your awareness to what happens when you experience fear.
Are you someone who runs away from it… or towards it? Are you someone who likes to be fearless and play? Are you someone who tears down walls and barriers? Or, are you someone who builds walls?
“This great Nation will endure as it has endured, will revive and will prosper. So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself – nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.”
“Only a foolish optimist can deny the dark realities of the moment.”
— quoted from the March 4, 1933, Inaugural Speech by President Franklin Delano Roosevelt
“What conflicts with the courage of wisdom is desires and fears. The Stoics developed a profound doctrine of anxiety which also reminds us of recent analyses. They discovered that the object of fear is fear itself. ‘Nothing,’ says Seneca, ‘is terrible in things except fear itself.’ And Epictetus says, ‘For it is not death or hardship that is a fearful thing, but the fear of death and hardship.’ Our anxiety puts frightening masks over all men and things. If we strip them of these masks their own countenance appears and the fear they produce disappears. This is true even of death. Since every day a little of our life is taken from us–since we are dying every day–the final hour when we cease to exist does not itself bring death; merely completes the death process. The horrors connected with it are a matter of imagination. They vanish when the mask is taken from the image of death.”
— quoted from “Chapter 1. Being and Courage – Courage and Wisdom: The Stoics” in The Courage To Be (pub. 1952) by Paul Tillich
Tuesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “08132022 The McGuffin’s MacGuffin”]
NOTES:
1 Angus MacPhail worked with Sir Alfred Hitchcock on Aventure Malgache (1944, uncredited writer); Bon Voyage (1944, writer); Spellbound (1945, writer for adaptation); The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956, uncredited contributing writer); and The Wrong Man (1956, screenwriter). He very briefly worked on the script development for Vertigo, which may be why the movie opens with San Francisco detective John “Scottie” Ferguson (as played by James Stewart) involved in a rooftop chase.2 Alfred Hitchcock used variations of this MacGuffin story on more than one occasion, including during a lecture at Columbia University in New York City (in 1939) and in a series of interviews. In some versions the conclusion was that there were no lions in the Scottish Highlands because the device in the parcel worked.
“We are very afraid of being powerless. But we have the power to look deeply at our fears, and then fear cannot control us. We can transform our fear. Fear keeps us focused on the past or worried about the future. If we can acknowledge our fear, we can realize that right now we are okay. Right now, today, we are still alive, and our bodies are working marvelously. Our eyes can still see the beautiful sky. Our ears can still hear the voices of our loved ones.”
— quoted from Fear: Essential Wisdom for Getting Through the Storm by Thich Nhat Hanh
Extreme heat (and traumatic events) can not only make people lethargic and unmotivated, they can also lead to extreme agitation and anxiety-based fear. We may find it hard to think, hard to feel (or process our feelings), and/or hard to control our impulses. If you are struggling in the US, help is available just by dialing 988.
If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can dial 988 (in the US) or call 1-800-273-TALK (8255) for the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. You can also call this TALK line if you are struggling with addiction or involved in an abusive relationship. The Lifeline network is free, confidential, and available to all 24/7. YOU CAN TALK ABOUT ANYTHING.
White Flag is a new app, which I have not yet researched, but which may be helpful if you need peer-to-peer (non-professional) support.
If you are a young person in crisis, feeling suicidal, or in need of a safe and judgement-free place to talk, you can also click here to contact the TrevorLifeline (which is staffed 24/7 with trained counselors).
### BE Fearless & PLAY. BE WISE.###
FTWMI: The Roots of Your Story August 11, 2024
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Abhyasa, Books, Changing Perspectives, Depression, Dharma, Faith, Gratitude, Healing Stories, Health, Hope, Karma, Life, Loss, Meditation, Men, Movies, Music, One Hoop, Pain, Philosophy, Suffering, Tragedy, Wisdom, Women, Writing, Yoga.Tags: 988, Africa, Alex Haley, Andre Dubus II, asana, chakras, Louisiana, marma, Matthew Sanford, Maty Ezrarty, nadis, New York, Tracy Chapman, United States Coast Guard, United States Marine Corps, yoga, yoga practice
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Many blessings to everyone and especially to creating histories of friendship, peace, freedom, and wisdom — especially when it gets hot (inside and outside).
Stay hydrated & be kind, y’all!
For Those Who Missed It: The following is a slightly revised version of a 2021 post. Class details, date-related information, and some formatting have been added or updated. Corrections at the end of the post are specifically related to the 2021 practices and/or post.
“I love short stories because I believe they are the way we live. They are what our friends tell us, in their pain and joy, their passion and rage, their yearning and their cry against injustice. We can sit all night with our friend while he talks about the end of his marriage, and what we finally get is a collection of stories about passion, tenderness, misunderstanding, sorrow, money….”
— quoted from the essay “Marketing” in Part III of Broken Vessels: Essays by Andre Dubus
Maty Ezraty once said, “A good sequence is like a good story. There is a beginning (an introduction), the middle (the heart of the story), and the end (the conclusion).” Life is a little different in that we meet each other in the middle of our stories and simultaneously progress forward and back (as we learn about each other’s back stories). However, regardless of the order in which we receive the information, take a moment to consider that our minds, bodies, and spirits are always telling us stories. The practice just happens to be a great way to process our stories. What remains to be seen, however, is if we paying attention.
Are we paying attention to our own stories? Are we paying attention to the stories of others? What happens when we “listen” to the sensation, which is the information that relates the story? What happens when, no matter how “woo-woo” it may seem, we trust our intuition and what comes up for us during the practice?
What happens when we dig down deep into the roots of the stories we tell ourselves and the stories we tell each other?
“There is fiction in the space between
You and reality
You will do and say anything
To make your everyday life seem less mundane
There is fiction in the space between
You and me”
— quoted from the song “Telling Stories” by Tracy Chapman
“Either you deal with what is the reality, or you can be sure that the reality is going to deal with you.”
— Alex Haley
At the beginning of the practice, as we are getting into the first pose — no matter what pose it is — we spend a little time establishing the roots, the foundation, the seat, the āsana. Then we repeat that process, again and again, as we move through the practice. Sometimes, we establish a foundation that works for a whole sequence, which gives us a different understanding of the root system and how everything stacks up from the base, the seat, the āsana (which is the pose). Sometimes, when we come back to a pose, we may pause for a moment and consider what’s changed, what’s shifted, and whether the original foundation still serves us. Sometimes we may find that, like roots, we need to spread out a little. If we spread out a little, add a prop, and/or bring another part of our body to the floor or a prop, then we are adding to our āsana, our seat, our foundation, our roots.
Adding to our roots, sometimes allows us to go deeper into our stories. The deeper we go, the more stories we find. The more stories we find, the more stories we can share.
“My fondest hope is that Roots may start black, white, brown, red, yellow people digging back for their own roots. Man, that would make me feel 90 feet tall.”
— Alex Haley (in a Playboy interview)
We may not always realize, but we are actually telling a multitude of stories any given time. There is the physical story of who we are and what we’re doing in this moment; which is also the story of what we’ve done in past moments and may tell a little bit about our future moments. Then, consider the mental story — which is inextricably tied to the physical story — and the emotional story, which is also tied to the mind-body story. There’s also, sometimes, a symbolic story based on the stories and attributes associated with the poses. Finally, there is an energetic story.
Actually, I could say that there are energetic stories; because different cultures and sciences have different energetic mapping systems. Yoga and Āyurveda, as they come to us from India, include an energetic mapping system composed of nādis (energy “channels” or “rivers”), marma points or marmāni (“vital” or “vulnerable” points), and chakras (energy “wheels”). The chakras, which are the points where the three primary nādis overlap around the center of the body, correspond with certain parts of the body and certain parts of our lives. In other words, they correspond with certain parts of our stories.
It is not an accident that the parts of our bodies that serve as our primary support (feet, legs, pelvic floor area) are referred to in yoga as our “root chakra” and that it is associated with our foundation in life: our first family, our tribe, our community of birth. Going deeper into these physical roots can give us deeper insight into how we — literally, metaphorically, and energetically — move through the world. Going deeper into these physical roots can give us deeper insight into how we build our lives, how we support ourselves, and (even) how we support our relationships and dreams.
“When you start talking about family, about lineage and ancestry, you are talking about every person on earth.”
“Roots is not just a saga of my family. It is the symbolic saga of a people.”
— Alex Haley
I often point out that just as we can be genetically connected to people we have never met and will never meet, we can also be energetically connected to people we have never met and will never meet. Just as someone who is adopted can find it beneficial (but challenging) to discover their birth families medical history, many of us can find that it is beneficial — but challenging — to discover the history of our ancestors: where they came from, what languages they spoke, what food they ate, what experiences informed their society. When we are able to uncover those stories, we gain insight into our own lives.
Nowadays, pretty much anyone and their mother can take a DNA test and discover some information about their family history, their roots. Of course, there will still be some unknowns and, if there’s no paper trail, there may be a lot of unknowns. Go back fifty or sixty years, before such tests were readily available to the public, and most African Americans in the United States had little to no hope of knowing their families’ back stories. Sure, there were family legends and bits and pieces of folklore that had been verbally passed down, but one never really knew how much was fact and how much was fiction. Even if, as is the case in my family, people lived long lives and there were family cemeteries, the legacy of slavery created a multigenerational novel with several chapters ripped out.
Born in Ithaca, New York on August 11, 1921, Alex Haley wanted to recover the ripped out chapters of his family’s story. His father, Simon Alexander Haley, was a professor of agriculture at several southern universities whose parents had been born into slavery (after being fathered by their mother’s slave owners). His mother, Bertha George Haley (née Palmer), was also the descendant of slaves and often told him stories about their ancestors. As was expected by his family, young Alex started college; however, he dropped out and joined the United States Coast Guard. It was during his 20 years in the Coast Guard that Alex Haley started his career as a writer.
Alex Haley is remembered for works like the 1965 Autobiography of Malcolm X and his 1976 book Roots: The Saga of an American Family, as well as Queen: The Story of an American Family (which was completed by David Stevens after Mr. Haley’s death), but he started off by writing love letters on behalf of his fellow sailors. Eventually he wrote short stories and articles for American magazines and, after World War II, he transferred into journalism where he was designated petty officer first-class (in 1949). He earned at least a dozen awards and decorations and the position of Chief Journalist was reportedly created for him. It was a position he held (along with the designation of chief petty officer) until he retired (in 1959).
After he retired, Alex Haley continued to make a name for himself by conducting interviews for Playboy. He was known for interviewing the best and the brightest in the African American community. In addition to his interviews with Malcolm X (which became his first book), he interviewed Muhammad Ali, Miles Davis, Martin Luther King Jr., Sammy Davis Jr., football legend Jim Brown, and even Quincy Jones — who would compose the music for the movies made out of Alex Haley’s books. He also interviewed famous people (who were not Black) like Johnny Carson and notorious people (who were not Black) like the Neo-Nazi politician George Lincoln Rockwell and Malvin Belli, the attorney who defended Jack Ruby.
When he started tracing his own family roots, Alex Haley interviewed family members and even traveled to Gambia (in West Africa) to interview tribal historians. Of course, there were still holes in the story and whole (cough, cough) passages missing. So, Mr. Haley decided to braid together what he could verify and what he was told with what he could imagine. Since his life experience was so vastly different from that of his ancestors, he decided to book passage on a ship traveling from the West African coast of Liberia to America — and, in order to more fully experience “middle passage,” he slept in the hold of the ship wearing only his underwear. During the 10 years that it took him to complete the novel (which he initially called Before This Anger), Alex Haley supported himself as a public speaker at universities, libraries, and historical societies.
Despite accusations of plagiarism, Mr. Haley’s finished product, Roots: The Saga of an American Family, became a bestselling novel that has been translated into almost 40 languages. It received a Special Citation Pulitzer Prize in 1977, and was adapted into a 12-hour television miniseries that was one of the most watched television events in history. The book ignited an interest in genealogy (particularly for African Americans) and spawned a second mini-series, Roots: The Next Generations, as well as a second book, Queen: The Story of an American Family. Queen, about Alex Haley’s paternal grandmother — who was a mixed child born into slavery — was also made into a much anticipated mini-series. The 1993 series was so anticipated that while I barely remembered that Halle Berry starred as “Queen,” I distinctly remember driving on I-45 between Dallas and Houston on a Sunday night and stopping at a motel because I didn’t want to miss the beginning of the series. I didn’t want to miss any part of the story that could have just as easily been my family’s story.
“Racism is taught in our society, it is not automatic. It is learned behavior toward persons with dissimilar physical characteristics.”
— Alex Haley
In some yoga practices, when we are on our backs with legs crossed, I might call the position “Eagle Legs” or “Garudāsana Legs.” However, in some styles and traditions, like in Yin Yoga, the same position would be called “Twisted Roots.” All of us, especially in America, have twisted roots — ways in which we may not realize we are connected, ways in which we may not realize our stories overlap. In the pose, the position of the legs engages the hips — what I often refer to as “the energetic centers of our relationships.” Our hips are energetically and symbolically associated with our second chakra, also known as our “sacral” (and “sacred”) chakra, and the relationships we make outside of our first family, tribe and community of birth. It is here that we, quite literally in Sanskrit, find our “[self] being established.” Again, it is no coincidence that the twisted roots in our lives engage — and bring awareness to — our connections to those we perceive as being different from us.
This is where we start to notice how our stories overlap.
On the surface, it might appear that Alex Haley and Andre Jules Dubus II have very little in common outside of a birthday, a nationality, and a profession. Mr. Dubus was born in Lake Charles, Louisiana on August 11, 1936. While Alex Haley was the oldest child and traced his heritage to African Cherokee, Scottish, and Scottish-Irish ancestors, Andre Dubus II was the youngest born into a Cajun-Irish Catholic family. Literature and writing were emphasized throughout his school and it was only after he graduated from college — with a degree in journalism and English — that, like Mr. Haley, Mr. Dubus enlisted in the military. He served in the United States Marine Corps for six years, earned the designation of captain, and eventually earned an MFA in creative writing.
“Wanting to know absolutely what a story is about, and to be able to say it in a few sentences, is dangerous: it can lead to us wanting to possess a story as we possess a cup. We know the function of a cup, and we drink from it, wash it, put it on a shelf, and it remains a thing we own and can control, unless it slips from our hands into the control of gravity; or unless someone else breaks it, or uses it to give us poisoned tea. A story can always break into pieces while it sits inside a book on a shelf; and, decades after we have read it even twenty times, it can open us up, by cut or caress, to a new truth.”
— quoted from the essay “A Hemingway Story” in Meditations from a Movable Chair: Essays by Andre Dubus
Andre Dubus II spent most of his adult life teaching literature and creative writing, while also earning recognition for his short stories and novellas, as well as at least one novel. He was awarded fellowships from the Guggenheim and MacArthur Foundations, as well as several PEN Awards. His 1979 short story “Killings” was adapted into a screenplay written by Todd Field and Robert Festinger. The movie, In the Bedroom, was nominated for five Academy Awards and three Golden Globe Awards (with Sissy Spacek winning for “Best Actress – Drama”). Other works by Mr. Dubus include the novellas We Don’t Live Here Anymore and Adultery, which were combined and adapted (by Larry Gross) into the movie We Don’t Live Here Anymore. Mr. Dubus also wrote Broken Vessels: Essays; Dancing After Hour: Stories; and Meditations from a Moveable Chair: Essays.
Like Alex Haley, some of Mr. Dubus’s work appeared in Playboy. Additionally, both men were married three times (although Andre Dubus II had twice as many children1). While the works of both men include love and hope overcoming tragedy, challenges, and horrific hardships, the source of their tragedy, challenges, and hardships were very different.
Well, ok, this first part is similar: Like Alex Haley, Andre Dubus II was affected by the rape of a relative. In the latter case, it was one of his own daughters and his daughter’s experience left him traumatized. (Years later, he would hear and retell the story of his sister Kathryn’s rape.) He was plagued with fear and paranoia surrounding the safety of his loved ones. His anxiety was so acute that he carried guns with him so that he was prepared to defend his family and friends against any (perceived) threats. His decision to carry multiple guns wherever he went — combined with his fear and paranoia — almost resulted in a second tragedy when he nearly shot a drunk man who was arguing with his son.
(This next part is symbolically similar to an earlier story, because it involves places the writer had never been and tragedy that occurred when strangers were thrown together.)
Like Alex Haley, Andre Dubus II wanted to go to the places about which he was going to write. He wanted to put himself in the shoes and on the path of his characters. So, he drove to Boston to check out some bars. Driving home that night, Wednesday, July 23, 1986, along I-93 between Boston and his home in Haverhill, Massachusetts, Mr. Dubus saw a couple of stranded motorists: a brother and a sister, Luis and Luz Santiago. None of them knew it at the time, but a motorcyclist had suffered a personal heartbreak, gotten drunk, crashed his bike, and then abandoned it in the middle of the road. Despite his anxiety, paranoia, and fear of strangers, it doesn’t appear that Mr. Dubus hesitated to help the Puerto Rican siblings in need. Neither does it appear that he hesitated (later) to help the drunk motorcyclist.
Tragically, after he stopped to help them move their car off of the highway, someone hit Andre Dubus II and the siblings. Luis Santiago died at the age of 23. Luz Santiago survived — because Andre Dubus II pushed her out of the way. As for Mr. Dubus, his legs were crushed in a way that initially resulted in his left leg being amputated above the knee and eventually led to the him being unable to use his right leg.2
He attempted to use prosthetics, but infections regulated him to a wheelchair. His medical and physical therapy bills stacked up — as did his anxiety, which was now compounded by clinical depression. His community of fellow writers stepped in to help him financially, and even emotionally. A literary benefit sponsored by Ann Beattie, E.L. Doctorow, John Irving, Gail Godwin, Stephen King, John Updike, Kurt Vonnegut, and Richard Yates yielded $86,00. But, there was more heartbreak: his third wife left him, taking his youngest two daughters.
Still, he kept writing.
“Don’t quit. It’s very easy to quit during the first 10 years. Nobody cares whether you write or not, and it’s very hard to write when nobody cares one way or the other. You can’t get fired if you don’t write, and most of the time you don’t get rewarded if you do. But don’t quit.”
— Andre Dubus II
Broken Vessels: Essays, which was Pulitzer Prize finalist, contains five sections. However, in a September 1991 review in The Baltimore Sun, Garret Condon indicated that the essays can be divided into two sections: Before the accident and After. A similar division can be seen in the whole body of his work as he moved from short stories based on the struggles and victories of the characters he found around him to essays about his own struggles and victories. As Alex Haley did, Mr. Dubus found himself attempting to bridge the gap between what he knew, what he was told, and what he could imagine. Lights of the Long Night braids together the story the 1986 accident as Andre Dubus II remembered it with the memories of the doctor who saved his life and those of Luz Santiago (whose life Mr. Dubus saved). Dancing After Hours: Stories is a collection of short stories full of characters whose lives are marked by a tragic before-and-after. Then there is Meditations from a Moveable Chair: Essays which depicts Andre Dubus’s personal journey through the trauma, loss, disability, and healing.
“It is not hard to live through a day, if you can live through a moment.”
— quoted from the short story entitled “A Father’s Story” by Andre Dubus
“What cracks had he left in their hearts? Did they love less now and settle for less in return, as they held onto parts of themselves they did not want to give and lose again? Or – and he wished this – did they love more fully because they had survived pain, so no longer feared it?”
— quoted from Dancing After Hours: Stories by Andre Dubus
On more than one occasion, I have mentioned my love of stories and storytelling as well as how Maty Ezraty’s perspective shapes my practice. Matthew Sanford is another teacher whose perspective on stories, storytelling, and the practice inspires the way I process through the practice. His story, like Andre Dubus’s story, overlaps life before and after a car accident that left him without mobility in his legs. In the introduction to his first book, Waking: A Memoir of Trauma and Transcendence, the founding teacher of Mind Body Solutions defined “healing stories” as “my term for stories we have come to believe that shape how we think about the world, ourselves, and our place in it.” In recent years, he has co-hosted “Body Mind Story,” a series of writing workshops with Kevin Kling and Patricia Francisco, to help people get in touch with the stories they hold in their mind-bodies.
When I think about our “healing stories” — the stories we tell ourselves and each other — I think about how those stories serve us, how they help us live and love more fully. When I come across someone whose story is different from mine, I question what they take away from their story — and then I question what I take away from mine… especially when our stories overlap. I consider what either one of us knows (and can verify) and how those facts and/or recollections are braided together with what we have been told and what our brains have imagined to fill in the missing gaps. When I question in this way, I sometimes I walk away from a conversation or a meditation and think “That story should be a bestseller.” Other times… Other times I think, “That’s a first draft. It needs more information and a rewrite.”
“Healing stories guide us through good times and bad times; they can be constructive and destructive, and are often in need of change. They come together to create our own personal mythology, the system of beliefs that guide how we interpret our experience. Quite often, they bridge the silence that we carry within us and are essential to how we live.”
— from Waking: A Memoir of Trauma and Transcendence by Matthew Sanford
Please join me for a 65-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Sunday, August 11th) at 2:30 PM. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Sunday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “08112021 The Roots of Your Story”]
“In my writing, as much as I could, I tried to find the good, and praise it.”
— Alex Haley
NOTE: The motorcyclist who got drunk and abandoned his motorcycle on the freeway in 1986 was not (physically) involved or injured in the subsequent accident. He was charged for leaving the scene of the accident and served at least a year. In interviews, Andre Dubus indicated that the man took responsibility for his action and that he (Dubus) spoke on his behalf during the sentencing. The man had gotten drunk after his wife abandoned him and their children — a story that overlaps Mr. Dubus’s own stories of marriage, infidelity, and bad coping mechanisms. While he was able to forgive the motorcyclist, because he took responsibility for his actions, Andre Dubus II was not so forgiving of the person driving the car that hit them. The driver was sober, but (according to Mr. Dubus) never made any attempt to contact him or (as far as he knew) Luz Santiago.
Strong emotions can led to carelessness and negligence. Extreme heat can not only make people lethargic and unmotivated, it can also lead to extreme agitation and anxiety-based fear. We may find it hard to think, hard to feel (or process our feelings), and/or hard to control our impulses. If you are struggling in the US, help is available just by dialing 988.
If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can dial 988 (in the US) or call 1-800-273-TALK (8255) for the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. You can also call this TALK line if you are struggling with addiction or involved in an abusive relationship. The Lifeline network is free, confidential, and available to all 24/7. YOU CAN TALK ABOUT ANYTHING.
White Flag is a new app, which I have not yet researched, but which may be helpful if you need peer-to-peer (non-professional) support.
If you are a young person in crisis, feeling suicidal, or in need of a safe and judgement-free place to talk, you can also click here to contact the TrevorLifeline (which is staffed 24/7 with trained counselors).
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.
2021 CORRECTIONS:
1To avoid confusion, I specifically did not mention the names of Andre Dubus II’s parents. However, despite my best efforts to not confuse the writer/father (Andre Jules Dubus II) with the writer/son (Andre Jules Dubus III), I misspoke during the 4:30 PM practice in 2021 and attributed House of Sand and Fog to the wrong author. The novel was written by the son, Andre Jules Dubus III, and while author and book were awarded and nominated for several prestigious prizes, it was not listed for the Man Booker Prize, which was known as the Booker Prize for Fiction when the novel was published.2Also (and this is strike three), after reviewing some pictures of Andre Dubus II, I realized that I mixed up his injuries. As indicated above, his left leg was the amputated leg. Please forgive the errors.
### Tell me your story… ###
A Quick Note & Excerpt: “Sitting in Grace & ‘A center of stillness surrounded by silence’” (a Monday post-practice post) July 29, 2024
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Abhyasa, Books, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Dharma, Faith, Fitness, Gratitude, Healing Stories, Life, Meditation, One Hoop, Peace, Philosophy, Vipassana, Wisdom, Yoga.Tags: 988, Dag Hammerskjöld, Daniel Goleman, Joseph Goldstein, Mahāṭīkā, Mahāsī Sayādaw, meditation, Mindfulness, Theraveda Buddhism, United Nations, Vipassana, Vipassanā, Vipassanā Mettā Foundation Translation Committee, yoga practice
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Many blessings to everyone and especially to anyone working for peace, freedom, and wisdom — especially when it gets hot (inside and outside). Stay hydrated, y’all!
This is a post-practice post related to the practice on Monday, July 29th. The 2024 prompt question was, “What do you appreciate about your practice(s)?” (Noting that this can be related to any practice.) You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
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 Mahāṭīkā says that the delight leads to jhāna [meditation] in certain cases. However, this does not mean that it cannot also give rise to insight concentration. Some Pāḷi texts explicitly mention that spiritual delight leads to the wholesome arising of other mental states such as rapture, calm (passaddhi), happiness (sukha), concentration, and knowledge of things as they really are (yathābhūtañāṇa). In the context of insight practice, every time one notes an object well it gives rise to delight. As a result of this, practice becomes enjoyable. This enjoyment in turn supports the progress of insight knowledge, step by step, until noble ones are liberated from the cycle of suffering. This is why delight is regarded as a cause of liberation for the noble ones.”
— quoted from the “Delight and laziness” section of “2. Purification of Mind: Liberations and Hindrances” in Manual of Insight by Venerable Mahāsi Sayadaw, translated and edited by the Vipassanā Mettā Foundation Translation Committee (Forwards by Joseph Goldstein and Daniel Goleman)
One of the things I find delightful and amazing about mindfulness-based practices — and particularly about my yoga and meditation practices — is that they meet you where you are, accept you as you are, and embrace all that you are.
Then, the practices encourage you to do the same for yourself (and, eventually for others).
I appreciate that this means we can practice even when we don’t feel super motivated to do anything (including a practice). I also appreciate that this means we can adapt and adjust the practice as needed — based on how we’re feeling, where we are, and/or what else we need to do in the course of the day. Finally, I appreciate that regardless of how any one of us feels about props, music, teachers, and other practitioners (all of which I love), we don’t need them to practice.
All any one of us needs to practice is our breath and our awareness of our breath.
Which means we can practice anywhere — including at the United Nations Headquarters.
Click on the excerpt title below for more.
Sitting in Grace & FTWMI: “A center of stillness surrounded by silence”
“…delight will arise spontaneously when one’s mindfulness, concentration, and insight mature. There is generally no need to try to deliberately develop it. However, when laziness is an obstacle, one should arouse delight by contemplating the virtues of the Triple Gem, the benefits of insight, how much one has purified one’s moral conduct since beginning to practice, or the pure and noble quality of the noting mind.”
— quoted from the “Delight and laziness” section of “2. Purification of Mind: Liberations and Hindrances” in Manual of Insight by Venerable Mahāsi Sayadaw, translated and edited by the Vipassanā Mettā Foundation Translation Committee (Forwards by Joseph Goldstein and Daniel Goleman)
There is no playlist for the Common Ground Meditation Center practices.
The 2023 playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “07292023 Still Breathing, Noting, Here & at the UN”]
The 2020 playlist is also available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “07292020 Breathing, Noting, Here & at the UN”]
“The more faithfully you listen to the voices within you, the better you will hear what is sounding inside.”
— quoted from Markings by Dag Hammerskjöld
If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can dial 988 (in the US) or call 1-800-273-TALK (8255) for the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. You can also call this TALK line if you are struggling with addiction or involved in an abusive relationship. The Lifeline network is free, confidential, and available to all 24/7. YOU CAN TALK ABOUT ANYTHING.
White Flag is a new app, which I have not yet researched, but which may be helpful if you need peer-to-peer (non-professional) support.
If you are a young person in crisis, feeling suicidal, or in need of a safe and judgement-free place to talk, you can also click here to contact the TrevorLifeline (which is staffed 24/7 with trained counselors).
### Peace In, Peace Out ###
A Quick Note & Excerpts About Practicing the R’s July 14, 2024
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Abhyasa, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Dharma, Faith, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Meditation, One Hoop, Pain, Peace, Pema Chodron, Philosophy, Suffering, Tragedy, Vairagya, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: 988, Anushka Fernandopulle, attachment, Buddhism, compassion, compassionate abiding, Elephant Journal, loving-kindness, lovingkindness, Matt Caron, Metta, non-attachment, Pema Chödrön, Pema Chodron, shenpa, Shenpa & The Practice of Getting Unhooked, yoga philosophy
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Many blessings to everyone and especially to anyone practicing peace, freedom, and wisdom (inside and outside).
“Somebody says a mean word to you and then something in you tightens — that’s the shenpa. Then it starts to spiral into low self-esteem, or blaming them, or anger at them, denigrating yourself. And maybe if you have strong addictions, you just go right for your addiction to cover over the bad feeling that arose when that person said that mean word to you. This is a mean word that gets you, hooks you. Another mean word may not affect you but we’re talking about where it touches that sore place — that’s a shenpa. Someone criticizes you — they criticize your work, they criticize your appearance, they criticize your child — and, shenpa: almost co-arising.”
— Pema Chödrön
For the record, I am not going to say, practice, teach (or preach) anything I haven’t been teaching, practicing, and saying (or preaching) for years. Maybe I will tweak the phrasing. Maybe you will hear/see/understand things in a special way — thereby gaining new insight. Either way, regardless of all that is happening in the world, it still comes back to this: Sometimes the only thing you can do is not make it worse.
Yes, sometimes we can do things that make our life and the lives around us better. Sometimes we can write legislation, vote for legislation, and/or vote for people who write and/or vote for legislation that creates more opportunity for peace, freedom, prosperity, and wisdom. Sometimes we can create organizations or work, volunteer, and/or donate to organizations that cultivate peace, freedom, prosperity, and wisdom. There are, however, times when we are too poor — in spirit, heart/courage, skills, and/or material resources — to do anything other than send “thoughts and prayers.”
All that being, I am of the mindset that we can not know what we are able to do and/or what is the best way to respond — rather than react — until we sit down, get still, get quiet, and get honest about our intentions. Once we are grounded and centered, then we can act accordingly. In other words, practice the four R’s:
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RECOGNIZE (that your buttons have gotten pushed and you have the urge/impulse to react).
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REFRAIN (from doing anything, especially that knee jerk reaction).
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RELAX (maybe breathe peace in and breath peace out, or do use a centering prayer).
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RESOLVE (to move forward with mindfulness and intention).
This is the practice taught by the American Tibetan Buddhist nun Pema Chödrön, who was born today in 1936. I often add another R (or two):
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REMEMBER (your intention and why you are doing the thing you are doing).
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RECOGNIZE (again, that sometimes the only thing you can do is not make it worse).
You may be thinking, I don’t have time for all that “navel gazing” and introspection. And, yes, there are definitely times that require a quick response. At the same time, if you make this practice a habit, it only takes a split second to engage when you really need it.
CLICK ON THE EXCERPT TITLES BELOW FOR MORE!
“By trying this, we learn exactly where we are open and where we are closed. We learn quickly where we would do well to just practice abiding compassionately with our own confused feelings, before we try to work with other people, because right now our efforts would probably make a bigger mess. I know many people who want to be teachers, or feed the homeless, or start clinics, or try in some way to truly help others. Despite their generous intentions, they don’t always realize that if they plan to work closely with people they may be in for a lot of difficulty—a lot of feeling hooked. The people they hope to help will not always see them as saviors. In fact, they will probably criticize them and give them a hard time. Teachers and helpers of all kinds will be of limited use if they are doing their work to build up their own egos.”
— quoted from “Unlimited Friendliness: Three steps to genuine compassion” (Winter 2009 issue of Tricycle) by Pema Chödrön
Please join me for a 65-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Sunday, July 14th) at 2:30 PM. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Sunday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “07142020 Compassion & Peace for Pema”]
“Prince Guatama, who had become Buddha, saw one of his followers meditating under a tree at the edge of the Ganges River. Upon inquiring why he was meditating, his follower stated he was attempting to become so enlightened he could cross the river unaided. Buddha gave him a few pennies and said: “Why don’t you seek passage with that boatman. It is much easier.”
— quoted from Matt Caron and from Elephant Journal
If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can dial 988 (in the US) or call 1-800-273-TALK (8255) for the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. You can also call this TALK line if you are struggling with addiction or involved in an abusive relationship. The Lifeline network is free, confidential, and available to all 24/7. YOU CAN TALK ABOUT ANYTHING.
White Flag is a new app, which I have not yet researched, but which may be helpful if you need peer-to-peer (non-professional) support.
If you are a young person in crisis, feeling suicidal, or in need of a safe and judgement-free place to talk, you can also click here to contact the TrevorLifeline (which is staffed 24/7 with trained counselors).
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.