“I fell in love, like many people do. We do that as well. And it became ridiculously inconvenient to have my attendant pushing me around in my wheelchair with my girlfriend. It was an extra person that I didn’t need to be more intimate. I learned how to drive a power wheelchair in one day. I was so motivated to learn something that it changed in many ways my perception of my disability and of myself. She jumped on my lap and we rode off into the sunset or to the closest motel.”
*
– Ed Roberts (b. 01/23/1939) in a 60 Minutes interview with Harry Reasoner
Please join me for a 65-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Sunday, January 23rd) at 2:30 PM. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment belowor (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Sunday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [NOTE: If it is accessible to you, please consider using the Spotify playlist as it contains the original music referenced in the practice. Even better, if you already have the album!]
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.)
“You always want to make it as good as it can be, but… But when you have problems that you can’t do anything about, one after another, you start forgetting what you’re actually doing, until it’s time. And that’s one of the secrets….”
*
– Keith Jarrett in a 2007 interview about his (01/24/1975) Köln Concert
This is the “missing” post for Tuesday, January 18th.You can request an audio recording of the practice via a comment belowor (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.
“As soon as Rabbit was out of sight, Pooh remembered that he had forgotten to ask who Small was, and whether he was the sort of friend-and-relation who settled on one’s nose, or the sort who got trodden on by mistake, and as it was Too Late Now, he thought he would begin the Hunt by looking for Piglet, and asking him what they were looking for before he looked for it.”
*
– quoted from “Chapter Three, In Which – A Search is Organdized, and Piglet Nearly Meets the Heffalump Again” in The House at Pooh Corner by Alan Alexander Milne, with decorations by Ernest Howard Shephard
Similar to The House at Pooh Corner (published in 1928), this post begins with an end note; but, let’s not call it that. Let’s call it a Side Note. See, when I’ve used quotes in class in the past, I don’t always cite chapter and verse. That’s not the point of the practice. However, now that I’m blogging more, recording classes, and posting a video or two, I feel that due diligence is required. Ergo, I make an effort to search for precise sources. It takes some time and effort, but the internet makes things easier than when I was doing such research in school and it’s super nice when I actually have hard copies (and/or paperback or electronic copies) of the source material. However, things can get complicated when something takes on a life of it’s own – outside of its original incarnation. This is even more true when that something is beloved… and the Walt Disney Company is involved.
Because sometimes people are quoting Disney productions, but citing the author.
“’It means just going along, listening to all the things that you can’t hear and not bothering.’”
*
– Christopher Robin defining “Doing Nothing” to Winnie the Pooh in “Chapter Ten, In Which – Christopher Robin and Pooh Come to an Enchanted Place, and We Leave Them There” of The House at Pooh Corner by Alan Alexander Milne, with decorations by Ernest Howard Shephard
Many books begin with a prologue or an introduction, however, as I already mentioned The House at Pooh is different from most books. It begins with a “Contradiction,” which the author explained was the opposite of an “Introduction.” Some of us might think of it as an epilogue, which it was… and also wasn’t, because it was coming at the beginning of the book rather than at the end. But, it was the end of the series – that was never intended to be a series. Of course, the author, A. A. Milne, understood the differences and the nuances of the words; that’s why he picked the one’s he picked.
Born Alan Alexander Milne on January 18, 1882, the famous children’s book author was the youngest of three boys that grew up in a household dedicated to learning. His father, John Vine Milne, ran Henley House School, a private school for boys that famously boasted teachers like H. G. Wells (who taught science there for one year). A. A. Milne reportedly taught himself to read at age two; attended Westminster School in London and Trinity College in Cambridge. It was at the latter that he edited and wrote (with his brother Kenneth) for The Granta, the student magazine now known simply as Granta. It was also at Trinity that he decided to pursue writing as a career even though he was graduating with a degree in mathematics. He started working for the humor magazine Punch not long after he graduated.
Then World War I broke out and – even though Mr. Milne didn’t believe in war – he served as an officer for at least five years, first as a signaling operator and then (after recuperating from an illness that sent him home) as a writer of military propaganda. He finished his service as a lieutenant and started writing articles and books denouncing war. He also started writing plays and poetry, some which appeared in Punch magazine. He had married Dorothy “Daphne” de Sélincourt just before the war and, within a year of his discharge, they had their son, Christopher Robin.
Mr. Milne was in the habit of making up little verses for his son, including one called “Teddy Bear,” which appeared in Punch when Christopher Robin was three years old. About five years after their son was born, the Milnes bought and moved to their country home in East Sussex. The woods around their East Sussex home – as well as Christopher Robin, his toys, and the games they played – became the inspiration for more poems and, ultimately, the stories about Winnie the Pooh, Christopher Robin, and all their friends. Those stories, however, were little more than divertissements to A. A. Milne and he was a little astounded (and latter appalled) that those little entertainments were earning more accolades than for his plays, articles, and adult novels. Later, he was also concerned by how all the attention affected his still young son – who, it must be said, kind of hated the attention.
“Every child has his Pooh, but one would think it odd if every man still kept his Pooh to remind him of his childhood. But my Pooh is different, you say: he is the Pooh. No, this only makes him different to you. My toys were and are to me no more than yours were and are to you, not different to me. I do not love them more because they are known to children in Australia or Japan. Fame has nothing to do with love.”
*
– quoted from “12. The Toys” in The Enchanted Places by Christopher Milne
There are a lot of reasons why people still love the characters created by A. A. Milne, but why are Christopher Robin, Pooh, Piglet, Owl, Eyeore, Rabbit, Kanga, Roo, Tigger, the Heffalump, and (even) Small more beloved than any of his other characters? We can, of course, point to the loveliness of an ideal childhood and those lovely “decorations” by E. H. Shephard. Of course, there is also the fact that the books are all about friendship. Then, too, there is the fact that we all know people like all of the characters. In fact, if we take a moment to turn inward, we may even recognize ourselves as one of the characters. Finally, there is just so much wisdom in the books. Yes, we can say it is wisdom for children; however, the best advice we receive as children, serves us as adults.
The children’s poems and stories by A. A. Milne remind us to slow down, savor our “honey” and our friends, and to soak up the moment. There are stories that remind us to play a little (Pooh Sticks); keep in touch (even when we are physically far apart); that sometimes we need a little help from our friends (in order to get out of tight situations); and that there is something to be said for being in the present moment. In fact, I think of the poem “Halfway Down” as a meditation on the liminal, or “threshold” moment that is this present moment.
“Halfway Down” is the thirty-fifth poem in When We Were Very Young, first published in 1924. It appears just a few pages before the aforementioned “Teddy Bear” and has been turned into a song sung be people as different as Robin the Frog (Kermit’s nephew) and Amy Lee. The children’s book reviewer Zena Sutherland called the poem a “juvenile meditation” – which was a ringing endorsement from an expert on children’s literature who would go on to teach “Children’s Literature” and “Literature for Young Adults” at the University of Chicago Graduate Library School; serve on the committees that award the Newbery and Cadecutt Awards, as well as the Scott O’Dell Award for Historical Fiction; and highlight the emotional benefits of books by Maurice Sendak, John Donovan, and Robert Cormier. She was the expert, but in my humble opinion, it is a great meditation for anyone, regardless of age.
“I’m not at the bottom, I’m not at the top; So this is the stair Where I always Stop. * Halfway up the stairs Isn’t up And isn’t down. It isn’t in the nursery, It isn’t in the town. And all sorts of funny thoughts Run round my head:”
*
– quoted (from halfway down) the poem “Halfway Down” by Alan Alexander Milne, with decorations by Ernest Howard Shephard
In some ways, The House at Pooh Corner was like that stair “halfway down the stairs.” It marked a transition. As A. A. Milne explained at the beginning, Christopher Robin and his friends needed no introductions – the readers already knew and loved them. What he also explained was that The House at Pooh Corner was a goodbye – he just didn’t tell his young readers why. And, in the end, maybe the why didn’t matter. Because…
“…they went off together. But wherever they go, and whatever happens to them on the way, in that enchanted place on the top of the Forest, a little boy and his Bear will always be playing.”
*
– quoted from “Chapter Ten, In Which – Christopher Robin and Pooh Come to an Enchanted Place, and We Leave Them There” of The House at Pooh Corner by Alan Alexander Milne, with decorations by Ernest Howard Shephard
Tuesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “08212021 An Afternoon of Just Knowing”]
Feel free to check out this 2016 post to discover someone who likes to explore enchanted places.
“Christopher Robin came down from the Forest to the bridge, feeling all sunny and careless, and just as if twice nineteen didn’t matter a bit, as it didn’t on such a happy afternoon, and he thought if he stood on the bottom rail of the bridge, and leant over, and watched the river slipping slowly away beneath him, then he would suddenly know everything there was to be known, and he would be able to tell Pooh, who wasn’t quite sure of it. But when he got to the bridge and saw all the animals there, then he knew that it wasn’t that kind of afternoon, but the other kind, when you wanted to do something.”
*
– quoted from “Chapter Six, In Which – Pooh Invents a New Game and Eeyore Joins In” of The House at Pooh Corner by Alan Alexander Milne, with decorations by Ernest Howard Shephard
This is the “missing” post for Wednesday, January 12th. You can request an audio recording of Tuesday’s practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.)
“…and he came out of it, and began to laugh, when he realised what a hideous dream he had had — he, the king of the gods, to have become a pig, and to think that that pig-life was the only life! Not only so, but to have wanted the whole universe to come into the pig-life!”
*
– commentary on Yoga Sūtra 2.18 from Raja Yoga by Swami Vivekananda
Yoga is a simple practice. It’s not easy, but it is simple. Anyone can do it, if they really want to do it (and are willing to figure out the method of practice that is best for them). The first two limbs of the 8-limb philosophy make up an ethical component (similar to commandments and precepts found in other systems). The next two limbs make up the physical practice, which are a way to test out the ethics and also prepare for the higher levels of practice. The fifth limb is the segue between the first half of the practice and the second half and the last three limbs make up the meditation aspect of the practice.
See? Simple.
Yet, as simple as the practice is, it is not one-dimensional. It’s not even two-dimensional. This practice has a lot of dimensions – and sometimes it seems the deeper we go the more layers we find.
On a very basic level, it’s a physical-mental practice. Even people who say that it’s just an exercise, have to admit that you can’t exercise your body without using your mind. By that same token, we are sensational beings, which means there is an emotional component to anything that engages our minds and bodies – especially when it deliberately engages the mind-body. The works of the ancient yogis (and even the words of the modern yogis) tell us that our energy/spirit is engaged in the practice; but, let’s say you don’t want to get into that. Let’s say you just want to keep it as basic as possible. Let’s just start with the mind-body.
Although I started this post with a quote about a pig, I want you to think about a frog. Funny thing, as we know from the Yoga Sūtras, there’s a lot of space – a lot of ether – between you sensing a frog (or even the word “frog”) and your brain/mind-intellect communicating that there’s a frog. If we were to concentrate-focus-meditate on the idea of a frog, then we also have to acknowledge that there’s the word (or the thing), the meaning of the word (and the thing), plus the essence of the word (and the thing). We also have to acknowledge, and this again comes up in the sūtras, that at this given moment we are not all thinking about and/or visualizing the same frog.
Even if we only think in terms of the physical practice of yoga, there are lots of different asanas called “frog pose.” If a group is comprised of a people who all practice with the same teacher(s), who inevitable teach(es) the same set of poses and only one of them is “Frog Pose,” the likelihood that people will start moving into the same pose when it is suggested is fairly probable. However, the probability of the group immediately thinking about the same “frog pose” diminishes as people’s experience increases. I’ve actually seen this happen in a class in real time and it can cause some confusion and frustration. Sometimes people just laugh about the confusion and let the frustration go; it’s just a random pose after all. No big deal. But, imagine if people in the group thought it was a really big deal. Imagine if people were really attached to getting it “right.”
Spoiler Alert: Most of you already got it “wrong.”
“Now comes the practical knowledge. What we have just been speaking about is much higher. It is away above our heads, but it is the ideal. It is first necessary to obtain physical and mental control. Then the realization will become steady in that ideal. The ideal being known, what remains is to practice the method of reaching it.”
*
– commentary on Yoga Sūtra 2.28 from Raja Yoga by Swami Vivekananda
Born Narendranath Datta, on January 12,1863, Swami Vivekananda was one of nine children born into a relatively wealthy and prestigious Bengali Kayastha family. He was known as “Narendra” or “Naren” until sometime after he took his formal monastic vows at the age of 23 (on Christmas Eve 1886). Similar to Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, there were elders in the future swami’s family (particularly his grandfather) and he developed an interest in Indian philosophy at an early age. His interest was encouraged by his father, Vishwantha Datta, who was a lawyer and novelist, and his mother, Bhubaneswari Devi, who was a devout housewife. He had a quick mind, a phenomenal memory, and he grew up meditating to images of Shiva, Rama, Sita, and Hanuman; however, it also seems like he was very much a little kid who did little kid things.
He received high marks in school and earned a Bachelor of Arts in 1884, after studying everything from religion, philosophy, history, social science, fine arts, and literature to classical Indian music and Western logic and philosophy. I’m not sure which way his life would have gone were it not for a series of serendipitous incidences. First, he attended a lecture about William Wordsworth’s 1814 poem “The Excursion: being a portion of The Recluse, a poem,” which chronicles the life of man whose personal grief and social disillusionment causes his to choose isolation over society. In the ensuing discussion, the professor suggested that the students should visit with a mystic in order to better understand the state of a “trance.”
That mystic was Ramakrishna Paramahamsa (Gadadhar Chattopadhyaya). The two met around 1881, and while Swami Vivekananda didn’t immediately become a formal student – in fact, he disagreed with much of what Ramakrishna was teaching – he stuck around, listening to lectures and engaging in conversation. When his father died in 1884, Swami Vivekananda become a devoted and noted disciple, formally becoming a member of a newly-formed monastic order shortly before Ramakrishna’s death in 1886. By 1888, he was living the life of a “wandering monk,” surviving and traveling courtesy of the generosity of others and sharing Ramakrishna’s teachings throughout India.
“And the Yogi shows how, by junction with nature, and identifying itself with the mind and the world, the Purusha thinks itself miserable. Then the Yogi goes on to show you that the way out is through experience. You have to get all this experience, but finish it quickly. We have placed ourselves in this net, and will have to get out. We have got ourselves caught in the trap, and we will have to work out our freedom…. [Experience] leads, step by step, to that state where all things become small, and the Purusha so great that the whole universe seems as a drop in the ocean and falls off by its own nothingness. We have to go through different experiences, but let us never forget the ideal.”
*
– commentary on Yoga Sūtra 2.18 from Raja Yoga by Swami Vivekananda
As he was teaching, Swami Vivekananda was also learning. He learned about the poor and the suffering. He learned about the lived experiences of people whose fates and faiths were very different from his own. Ultimately, he was selected to share Indian philosophy with people outside of India. Beginning in the summer of 1893, he traveled to Japan, China, and Canada before reaching the United States. His primary destination in the United States was Chicago, which was hosting the World’s Fair that September. Hundreds of formal meetings, conferences, and congresses were organized in association with the fair, including the World’s Parliament of Religions – which was the largest of the associated gatherings and the first organized interfaith gathering. In addition to delegates sharing messages from spiritual leaders like the Japanese Buddhist reformer and priest Kiyozawa Manshi (Pure Land), there were representatives from new religious movements (NRM) and some of the oldest religious movements. Representatives included the Virchand Gandhi (Jain), Anagarika Dharmapala (“Southern Buddhism,” now known as Theraveda Buddhism), Soyen Shaku (Zen Buddhism), G. Bonet Maury (a Christian, Protestant, historian), Septimus J. Hanna (Christian Science), Mohammed Alexander Russell Webb (an American covert to Islam), and Pratap Chandra Majumdar (Brahmo Samaj, an aspect of Brahmoism). William Quan Judge and Annie Besant represented the Theosophical Society; Pung Quang Yu represented several Chinese religions; and the American Presbyterian missionary Henry Harris Jessup mentioned the publicly discussed the Baháʼí Faith.
Then there was the young Swami Vivekananda, who almost didn’t make the roster because he didn’t have credentials from a bona fide organization. After contacting a Harvard professor and receiving his recommendations, the 30-year old monk was allowed to speak about Hinduism and two of the six Indian philosophies: Vedanta and Yoga. By all accounts, he was a dynamic and engaging speaker. His first speech was during the opening ceremonies on September 11, 1893, and his first words, “Sisters and brothers of America,” were reportedly met with a 2-minute standing ovation from the thousands of attendees.
Once the applause died out, he said, “It fills my heart with joy unspeakable to rise in response to the warm and cordial welcome which you have given us. I thank you in the name of the most ancient order of monks in the world; I thank you in the name of the mother of religions; and I thank you in the name of millions and millions of Hindu people of all classes and sects.” He then went on to acknowledge various religious heritages, quote from a hymn that he said, “I remember to have repeated from my earliest boyhood, which is every day repeated by millions of human beings;” quoted from the Bhagavad Gita; and condemned “Sectarianism, bigotry, and its horrible descendant, fanaticism” and the effects of those hateful expressions.
“Great is the tenacity with which man clings to the senses. Yet, however substantial he may think the external world in which he lives and moves, there comes a time in the lives of individuals and of races when, involuntarily, they ask, ‘Is this real?’ To the person who never finds a moment to question the credentials of his senses, whose every moment is occupied with some sort of sense-enjoyment — even to him death comes, and he also is compelled to ask, ‘Is this real?’ Religion begins with this question and ends with its answer. Even in the remote past, where recorded history cannot help us, in the mysterious light of mythology, back in the dim twilight of civilisation, we find the same question was asked, ‘What becomes of this? What is real?’”
*
– from “The Real Nature of Man” speech, delivered in London and published in The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda (Volume 2, Jnana-Yoga) by Swami Vivekananda
Over the course of the conference, which ended on September 27th, Swami Vivekananda continued to speak (in public and in private sessions) about religions and philosophies prominent in India. His speeches had two common threads: universality and religious tolerance. That two-fold theme underscored the ironic fact that all the different religions had a similar goal – a deeper, richer relationship with the Divine or God (whatever that means to you at this moment – and yet, the different ways people pursued (and continue to pursue) their ultimate goal created strife, suffering, and wars. In other words, people’s methods were (and are) sometimes antithetical to their beliefs and therefore are obstacles along the path.
Swami Vivekananda’s lectures were well received by other religious leaders, lay attendees, and journalists. In fact, he and his words were so well received he was invited to tour the United States and then the United Kingdom. For years, he toured the U. S. and the United Kingdom, giving lectures and offering demonstrations. Just as before, Swami Vivekananda’s experiences slightly changed his focus and the way that he taught the lessons of his elders. He began to focus his efforts on establishing Vedanta centers that would continue and extend the legacy of his spiritual elders.
He founded the Vedanta Society of New York in 1894; the Ramakrishna Mission in Calcutta (1897), which included the Ramakrishna Math; two monasteries; two journals; and an English language monthly magazine. He also wrote several books, including Raja Yoga (which includes translation and commentary of Patanjali’s Yoga Sūtras intended for a Western audience), and translated some of the work that had inspired him, including the Yoga Sūtras and De Imitatione Christi (The Imitation of Christ), a Christian devotional by the medieval canon Thomas à Kempis. Swami Vivekananda inspired others live with an awareness of their interconnectedness. He also inspired others to teach and to practice their beliefs through action (karma yoga). He is considered a patriotic saint in India and, since it was declared so in 1984, his birthday is celebrated as “National Youth Day” in India. This year’s theme is “It’s all in the mind,” which like previous themes is based on Swami Vivekananda’s teachings.
“Practiced regularly, [Frog or Child’s Pose] also improves your breathing and your elimination…. The quality of our elimination is directly tied to the quality of our respiration. And, so, tension in the low abdomen and back can directly impact the quality of our ability to eliminate regularly.”
*
– Scott Blossom, explaining detoxification benefits of Mandukāsana*
Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.
*NOTE: The Wednesday practice included several (but not all) of the “Frog Poses” that we have done over the years. And none of those were originally mentioned “frog,” which appeared in a story Swami Vivekananda shared on September 15, 1893 at the World’s Parliament of Religions, as follows:
“I will tell you a little story. You have heard the eloquent speaker who has just finished say, ‘Let us cease from abusing each other,’ and he was very sorry that there should be always so much variance.
But I think I should tell you a story which would illustrate the cause of this variance. A frog lived in a well. It had lived there for a long time. It was born there and brought up there, and yet was a little, small frog. Of course the evolutionists were not there then to tell us whether the frog lost its eyes or not, but, for our story’s sake, we must take it for granted that it had its eyes, and that it every day cleansed the water of all the worms and bacilli that lived in it with an energy that would do credit to our modern bacteriologists. In this way it went on and became a little sleek and fat. Well, one day another frog that lived in the sea came and fell into the well.
‘Where are you from?’
‘I am from the sea.’
‘The sea! How big is that? Is it as big as my well?’ and he took a leap from one side of the well to the other.
‘My friend,’ said the frog of the sea, ‘how do you compare the sea with your little well?’
Then the frog took another leap and asked, ‘Is your sea so big?’
‘What nonsense you speak, to compare the sea with your well!’
‘Well, then,’ said the frog of the well, ‘nothing can be bigger than my well; there can be nothing bigger than this; this fellow is a liar, so turn him out.’
That has been the difficulty all the while.
I am a Hindu. I am sitting in my own little well and thinking that the whole world is my little well. The Christian sits in his little well and thinks the whole world is his well. The Mohammedan sits in his little well and thinks that is the whole world. I have to thank you of America for the great attempt you are making to break down the barriers of this little world of ours, and hope that, in the future, the Lord will help you to accomplish your purpose.”
“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)
*
### 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.” ###
This is the “missing” post for Sunday, January 2nd. I revised some typographical/grammatical errors and added a video link. You can request an audio recording of the practice via a comment belowor (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.
Just to make it a little more palatable (and a little less personal), I’ll just make it about me: Somewhere between the end of March 2020 and the summer of 2020, when my mother died, I stopped expecting things to “get back to normal.” Don’t get me wrong, like a lot of people, there was a time when I wanted to “get back” to some parts of what we had. After all it’s totally normal and human to seek the familiar. As has been pointed out again and again, long before people like Marcel Proust, José Ortega y Gasset, Virginia Satir, Dr. Irvin Yalom, Dr. Oliver Sacks, and Charlie Harary (who all also pointed it out), the brain likes the familiar… and the brain likes the familiar (again). The brain finds comfort in the familiar even when the familiar is uncomfortable.
All of this means that we primarily live in the past and the present, because even our visions of the future are (primarily) mirrors of our past and present. People rarely imagine living in a future – let alone an immediate future – that is completely foreign and unrelated to their past or present. It’s one of the reasons why people stay in abusive situations and/or repeat patterns (even when they are not overtly abusive or detrimental). It’s one of the reasons (neurology notwithstanding) that people numb their pain with their addiction of “choice.” More often than not, we expect the unknowns in our future to be different versions of what we encountered in the past. When we recognize that fear is the emotional response to a perceived threat, then we can also start to recognize why fear of the unknown is such a strong and paralyzing experience.
Bottom line, the unfamiliar is threatening.
The unfamiliar threatens the status quo, but it also threatens our life. It threatens our life as we know it which, to the lizard brain, is the same thing as a very real and tangible/physical threat. That perception of threat is why change is so hard, especially when we are not prepared to change. To make matters worse, the unexpected changes that struck the world at the end of 2019 and the beginning of 2020, were extra threatening, because they came wrapped together with an actual medical threat. To add insult to injury, almost everything that’s been recommended as preventative measures (against the medical issue) over the last two years has also taken a physical, mental, psychological, energetic, and emotional toll.
For some, it has also taken a spiritual toll.
And, every day, we see the effects of those tolls.
A familiar refrain when I was growing up was, “{Insert person/people} has/have lost their mind(s)!” Over the last few years, some people have lost their centers. They have lost their connection to what they value and what is important to them. They have lost their sense of being grounded – in themselves and in reality. Some people have allowed their disagreements with others to consume them and, in doing so, they have lost what it means to be alive. Some have even allowed their beliefs to suck them into a vortex that is contrary to life.
I said, “the last few years;” because, let’s be honest, certain changes have been happening for more than two. And while I said “some people,” I really mean all of us, because the statements above could be applied to any of us at one time or another. All of humanity is like that drawing of a person desperately clinging to a crumbling cliff.
“’Life is not the way it’s supposed to be. It’s the way it is. The way you cope with it is what makes the difference,’ is the way [Virginia Satir] expressed it at a 1986 meeting of 600 Los Angeles-area psychologists, psychiatrists and other mental health professionals.
*
‘I think if I have one message, one thing before I die that most of the world would know, it would be that the event does not determine how to respond to the event. That is a purely personal matter. The way in which we respond will direct and influence the event more than the event itself.’”
*
– quoted from the Los Angeles Times obituary “Virginia M. Satir, 72; Family Therapy Pioneer” by George Stein (dated September 12, 1988)
The aforementioned drawing was based on Virginia Satir’s “Change Process Model,” which details the following progression: old status quo, foreign element, resistance, chaos, transforming idea(s), practice and integration, and new status quo. It can be very nicely laid over the “Hero’s Journey / Cycle.” People have also overlapped it with Dr. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’s “stages of grief,” which I think only makes sense if you draw a labyrinth as switchbacks on a mountain. (But, I digress.) Some illustrated versions of the the Satir Change Process Model show a person running headlong toward the edge of the cliff – as if, with enough momentum, they can jump over the gap and land on the other side (thereby skipping the chaos). Then there’s a “foreign element” and the fall towards chaos. Other versions just start with the foreign element and fall. Either way, there is resistance. Very few people consciously hurtle towards chaos – which, if we are going by chaos theory, is simply the result of a change we don’t understand (because we don’t know where to start). Here’s the thing though, change is happening; we know change is happening; we can engage the change (or not).
Engaging change is the one recommendation that isn’t getting a lot of (proverbial) air time. We’re all still talking about “getting back to normal” – and, yes, yes, I know, “the new normal” is one of those phrases on Lake Superior State University’s “2022 Banished Words List. But, since I’m being honest, sometime after the summer of 2020, I started getting ready for a “new normal.” Not necessarily the one based on my engrained habits developed while I was waiting to get back to normal. No, I wanted a better normal – better even than what I had before lockdown.
– “By making Samyama on the three sorts of changes comes the knowledge of past and future.”
As arbitrary as the annual marker is, every calendar new year is marked with some kind of celebration and hope and people talking about change and turning a corner. But, the reality is that some things don’t change. Studies consistently show that the number of people who keep their resolutions steadily declines after the first week of the new year. The decline is so steep that one study indicated that less than half of the people who made them (~46%) successfully kept their new year’s resolution for six months and only 4% of people with similar goals, but no resolution, felt they were successful in achieving their goals after six months – which seems to make the case for setting resolutions. However, a 2016 study indicated that only about 9% of the people who made resolutions felt they were successful at the end of the year.
Which begs the question, “Why bother?”
We bother because we have desires and a basic desire is to have less suffering. Pretty much all the Eastern philosophies (plus Latin, the language) agree that the end of suffering is directly tied to the end of desire. Yet, our desires persist. It’s human nature.
People who study such inclinations indicate that whether or not we succeed or fail in achieving our goals is based on several variables including (but not limited to) how realistic our goals are; whether or not we have calculated the appropriate (baby) steps along the way (which is also whether or not we appreciate the little things along the way); whether or not we have too many goals; whether we keep track and/or have someone to keep us accountable; whether or not we have reminders/prompts; and how much resistance we encounter along the way. A few years back (December of 2018), I posted a football analogy about resistance, intention, and achieving goals. In thinking about that analogy in relation to now, I think about how much our resistance to change keeps us from achieving our goals. Spoiler alert: turns out, we’re the team we’re playing against.
I can’t speak for you, but I am ready for some transformational ideas. It doesn’t have to be anything new, fancy, and shiny. In fact, it’s probably better if it’s not. It’s probably better if it’s something that we know works; which is why the sankalpa (“intention”) I’m using this year (for my personal practice and the Saturday practices) is an old one and why I added a different framework to the New Year’s Day practices this year.
The sankalpa (see below) was developed by Émile Coué (b. February 26, 1857), a psychologist and pharmacist. (I hesitate to use the word “developed” in reference to a sankalpa, but stick with me.) Years and years ago, I practiced Yoga Nidra with Shar at 5809 Yoga, in Minneapolis, and a sankalpa she used has really resonated with me over the years. When I dug into the origin, I came across the the Coué method and, after sitting with it for a bit, decided that aligned with my focus for this year.
In framing the New Year’s Day practices, I started the way we always start: centering and grounding. Then I considered that so much of our resistances comes from not allowing things to be what they are and not allowing people to be who they are, which brought my focus to allowing and being. Of course, as René Descartes pointed out, we think therefore we are. As José Ortega y Gasset pointed out, because we are (in that we exist), we think and (as Patanjali and other philosophers have pointed out), our beliefs shape our lives. Ergo, the last part of my framework was a compound: being-believing.
This year, my goalresolution intention is to be centered and grounded, to allow (reality to be what it is), and (given reality) to be (i.e, exist) in a way that my thoughts, words, and deeds accurately reflect my beliefs. Feel free to join me, here and/or on the mat.
“Every day, in every way, I’m getting better and better.”
– quoted from the I’m Getting Better and Better: My Method by Émile Coué
Sunday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “10202020 Pratyahara”]
[“Kwanzaa, yenu iwe na heri!” – “May your Kwanzaa be happy!” to everyone who is celebrating! May you have a meaningful observation if your focus is on the Innocents.]
The following was originally posted in December of 2020. Class details have been updated.
“…aware at last that in this world, with great power there must also come — great responsibility!”
– quoted from Amazing Fantasy #15 by Stan Lee, et al (August 1962)
I can’t help it. I’m sorry (not sorry), but I. Just. Can’t. Help. It! When I think of responsibility one of the first things that pops into my head is that famous line from the 1962 introduction of Spiderman. Then I start thinking about Stan Lee…
Born today in 1922 (as Stanley Lieber), Stan Lee did not invent the phrase or the sentiment many associate with Peter Parker and his uncle Ben Parker. He did, however, make it wildly popular and combined it with the awareness that everyone can do something to help alleviate the struggles and suffering of others. After all, for the most part, Lee’s characters in the Marvel Universe were not and are not (initially or typically) perfect alien humanoids without a care in the world. They were not sent to Earth to save humankind. No, they were making their home a better place.
And, Lee’s characters were just like his readers: people with very human fears, flaws and insecurities; people with bad tempers, impatience, fits of melancholy and vanity; people who bickered, worried about paying their bills, worried about impressing a love interest; and people who got bored or even sick. They were people – like the Fantastic Four (1961), Spiderman (1962), X-Men, Iron Man, Thor, Hulk, Dr. Strange, Daredevil, the Avengers (1963), and Black Panther (1966) – who had to reconcile their abilities, their sometimes suddenly discovered powers, with all the need in the world… and the fact that people often thought they were freaks … and the fact that they couldn’t always solve every problem. But, neither, could they look away.
We are all able to do something. Sometimes we think what we are able to do is not much – which can be a self defeating attitude. Sometimes that attitude comes from not think about people who are not able (physically, mentally, emotionally, and/or energetically) to do what we can do. Nor do we always think about the importance of doing things the special way we do them. In neglecting to appreciate what we have to offer, we run the risk of missing an opportunity to make the world a better place.
“‘Nevermore shall men make slaves of others! Not in Asgard — not on Earth — not any place where the hammer of Thor can be swung — or where men of good faith hold freedom dear!’”
– quoted from the end panel of “Tales of Asgard, Home of the Mighty Norse Gods: Trapped by the Trolls” in Journey Into Mystery Volume I, with the Mighty Thor #108 (1964) by Stan Lee, Jack Kirby, Vince Colletta, Art Simek, et al (1964)
Ultimately, each Marvel character is charged with doing “what they can, as much as they can, for as long as they can” in order to help the people around them. While that description fits two of the Nguzo Saba, or Seven Principles of Kwanzaa, today I’m mostly going to focus on today’s principle, the third principle; Ujima (collective work and responsibility): To build and maintain our community together and make our brother’s and sister’s problems our problems and to solve them together. Ujima is connected to the first green candle on the kinara (special candelabra), which is a symbol of the future and prompts celebrants to consider a future free of some of our current struggles, suffering, and plights.
We may not be able to travel through time and change the future like Dr. Strange, Rina Patel, or Iron Lad, but each of us has the power to consider cause-and-effect. We can take a look at how our past actions are reflected in our current circumstances and how our actions in this moment are the seeds that blossom into “tomorrow’s” circumstances. In fact, in the Yoga tradition such abilities are included in a list of siddhis, supernormal “powers” or abilities.
Some siddhis very much seem like Marvel Universe powers or Jedi Knight Tricks. However, there are six that are described as being “powers unique to being human.” We not only find these specifically human powers (as described in the Sāmkhya Karika) in every Marvel comic book, we find them in every one of ourselves:
the power of discovery (i.e., intuitive knowledge);
the power “to give a form to sound, assign meaning to each segment of sound, and to store both sound and meaning in memory….[and] the capacity to communicate both sound and its meaning to others. We also have the capacity to give a visual form to each segment of sound and the meaning associated with it[;]”
the power to “study, analyze, and comprehend” abstract ideas no matter how they are (effectively) communicated;
the power to eliminate “three-fold sorrow – physical, mental, and spiritual;”
the power to “[cultivate] a good heart; finding friends;”
the power of dana, which is “the ability to give.”
In addition to being the Stan Lee’s birthday and the third day of Kwanzaa, today corresponds with the third or fourth day of the “12 Days of Christmas” (depending on when you start counting). For those of you keeping track of the gifts related to the catechism myth, today’s gifts and symbols are: “a partridge in a pear tree” for Jesus (and the cross); “two turtle doves” representing the Old and New Testament; “three French Hens” for the theological virtues of Faith, Hope, and Charity (Love); and “four calling birds” for the four canonical New Testament Gospels (or their corresponding evangelicals, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John).
Finally, as many Christians (and in particular Catholics) observe these days between Christmas and Epiphany as “fast free days,” I will mention that one of the feast days associated with today is the Feast of the Holy Innocents, also known as Childermas or Innocents Day. This is a day devoted to the remembrance of young children killed in Bethlehem when King Herod the Great learned that the Magi, at the suggestion of an angel, had tricked him and would not lead him back to the newborn Jesus. This day (today in Western Christianity, but December 29th in some Eastern traditions) has been observed as a fast day and was even, at one time, associated with practices considered a mockery of the faith and religion. However, today some consider it a day for children to be children… and do the things that children do (especially when they do not fear persecution, oppression, hunger, famine, or disease).
“All six of these stories – nearly half the stories in the book – speak to me of a longing in our human condition, a desire for more life (either here or in the hereafter) or a desire to turn regrets around to something joyous….
None of the characters in this collection are more powerful than a locomotive, none are faster than a speeding bullet, but what they are able to do, I believe, reveals something of our desires, something of our humanity – the best and worst in us.”
– quoted from the introduction to able to…: a literary look at super powers by…, edited by Neil Ellis Orts
Please join me today (Tuesday, December 28th) at 12:00 PM or 7:15 PM for a yoga practice on Zoom.Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. Give yourself extra time to log in if you have not upgraded to Zoom 5.0. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at)ajoyfulpractice.com.
CHECK OUT THE CALENDAR! You can kick off New Year’s Day 2022 in two ways: with the very active practice of 108 Sun Salutations at 10:00 AM or with the very “chill” practice of a Yin+Meditation practice beginning at 5:00 PM. All times are Central Standard. Details are posted on the class schedules calendar. And, yes, some folks have done both!!
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, playlists, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). If you don’t mind me knowing your donation amount you can also donate to me directly. Donations to Common Ground are tax deductible; class purchases and donations directly to me are not necessarily deductible.)
“Umoja (unity)—To strive for and maintain unity in the family, community, nation, and race.
Kujichagulia (self-determination)—To define ourselves, name ourselves, create for ourselves, and speak for ourselves.
Ujima (collective work and responsibility)—To build and maintain our community together and make our brother’s and sister’s problems our problems and to solve them together.
Ujamaa (cooperative economics)—To build and maintain our own stores, shops, and other businesses and to profit from them together.
Nia (purpose)—To make our collective vocation the building and development of our community in order to restore our people to their traditional greatness.
Kuumba (creativity)—To do always as much as we can, in the way we can, in order to leave our community more beautiful and beneficial than we inherited it.
Imani (faith)—To believe with all our heart in our people, our parents, our teachers, our leaders, and the righteousness and victory of our struggle.”
– The Nguzo Saba (or “Seven Essential Pillars”) of Kwanzaa
The following was originally posted in December of 2020. I do not typically use music for the Monday night practice associated with Common Ground Meditation Center, but I have left the playlist links for this post. The class details have been updated.
“Every time you hear a bell ring, it means that some angel’s just got his wings.”
– Clarence Odbody (AS2) in It’s A Wonderful Life
Even people who don’t celebrate Christmas, as a religious holiday or otherwise, may have a favorite Christmas story or carol. These stories – which become such perennial favorites they are often turned into plays, ballets, musicals, and all manners of pageants – are full of not only the trappings and traditions of Christmas, but also the spirit. You may think the spirit of which I speak is the hope, the cheer, and the good tidings; but, one consistent element in these stories is grief, desolation, isolation, sadness – and yes, also SAD-ness.
The Greatest Gift was self-published by its author, Philip Van Doren Stern, in 1943 – exactly 100 years after Charles Dickens first published A Christmas Carol. In fact, Stern (who was half Jewish) was partially inspired by the Dickens-classic. Although the story takes place at Christmastime and was initially sent out as Stern’s 1943 Christmas cards, the author intend the story to be universal. The following year the story was picked up by a two different magazines (including Good Housekeeping, which called it “The Man Who Was Never Born”) and a movie production company. By 1945, the original movie rights for The Greatest Gift had been sold to director and producer Frank Capra, who would change the title and tweak some of the details.
Current fans of Frank Capra’s It’s A Wonderful Life, which premiered today in 1946, might be surprised to learn that the movie was not an instant success. The movie’s general release faced stiff competition from movies like Stairway to Heaven (released as A Matter of Life and Death in the UK) and Miracle on 34th Street – both of which shared elements of fatalism vs. free will, life vs. death, and hope vs. despair, as well as bumbling “angels” (in the former) and adorable children (in the latter). There was also drama behind the scenes and, ultimately, proceeds from the initial release barely covered the production cost. But, like A Christmas Carol, Frank Capra’s It’s A Wonderful Life featured a protagonist who could have had SAD and who experienced a major shift because of spiritual intercession. Only, in the case of the movie, the spirit was actually an angel.
“You’ve been given a great gift, George, a chance to see what the world would be like without you.”
– Clarence Odbody (AS2) in It’s A Wonderful Life
In the movie, Angel 2nd Class Clarence Odbody (portrayed by Henry Travers) must convince 38-year old George Bailey (immortalized by Jimmy Stewart) that his life is “wonderful”… or, at least worth living. Unlike Ebenezer Scrooge, Bailey has spent his life trying to help others, but a mistake – involving his good intentions and his own personal “Scrooge,” Mr. Potter (portrayed by Lionel Barrymore, who actually spent 20 years portraying “Scrooge”) – leads to criminal charges and the feeling that nothing he has ever done in his life makes a difference.
The truly ironic, and potentially tragic, part of George Bailey’s life is that he made a significant difference in his community. He saved more than one life and, on more than one occasion, gave up his savings to help others. He absolutely lived a life that was the embodiment of those last three siddhis (“powers”) unique to being human: the capacity to eliminate three-fold sorrow; the cultivation of a good heart (which is the ability to make friends); and generosity (the ability to give). Yet, in a moment of weakness, Bailey neglects to recognize his own power or potential. He has thoughts of self harm – one of the symptoms of SAD.
“Strange, isn’t it? Each man’s life touches so many other lives. And when he isn’t around he leaves an awful hole, doesn’t he?”
“You see George; you really had a wonderful life. Don’t you see what a mistake it would be to throw it away?”
– Clarence Odbody (AS2) in It’s A Wonderful Life
Real life is different from a novella by Dickens, a short story by Stern, or a movie by Capra; in part because there’s not a writer or director making sure the intervention happens. Also, not everything gets tied up at the end. However, if you or someone you know is experiencing symptoms associated with SAD, it is important to take two big lessons from these fictional works: 1. You are not alone. 2. You can get help.
The ghosts in Dickens’s classic and the angel who gets his wings by helping out a good person are (literally) inspired symbols. They are the spirits or real people. (Sometimes they are even “strange” people, like in The Greatest Gift.) In real life, we are each other’s Christmas Past, Present, and Not Yet – just as we are each other’s guardian angels. We can show up for each other – and we must show up for each other. Real life is different in that sometimes the person that needs help has to ask for help (and/or the people around them have to notice what constitutes “a cry for help.”) In real life, happy endings don’t just happen; we have to make them happen.
“Please! I want to live again. I want to live again. I want to live again. Please, God, let me live again.”
– George Bailey in It’s A Wonderful Life
Please join me today (Monday, December 20th) at 5:30 PM for a 75-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. Give yourself extra time to log in if you have not upgraded to Zoom 5.0. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below.
There is no playlist for the Common Ground practice.
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.)
If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can call 1-800-273-TALK (8255). You can also call the TALK line if you are struggling with addiction or involved in an abusive relationship. The Lifeline network is free, confidential, and available to all 24/7. YOU CAN TALK ABOUT ANYTHING.
“George Bailey: You know what the three most exciting sounds in the world are? Uncle Billy: Uh-huh. Breakfast is served, lunch is served, dinner… George Bailey: No, no, no, no! Anchor chains, plane motors, and train whistles.”
– quoted from It’s A Wonderful Life
### “Gotta love it… gotta live it… try to savor every moment” ~Anointed ###
The end of the Chanukah story was the beginning of peace and freedom for the Jewish people, right? If you know your history, then you know the answer is, “Eh, sort of.” Monday’s question connects us to the story of another group of people “crying freedom.” The following was originally posted December 6, 2020. I do not typically use music for the Monday night practice associated with Common Ground Meditation Center, but I have left the playlist links for this post. The Juneteenth 2021 playlist also works for this practice.
“As to the charge of treason, what is treason? I would ask. Treason in a people is the taking up of arms against the government or the siding of its enemies. In all revolutions the vanquished are the ones who are guilty of treason, even by the historians, for history is written by the victors and framed according to the prejudices and bias existing on their side.”
– quoted from a speech given by Missouri Senator George Graham Vest on August 21st and printed in “Vest on Succession. Speech of the Senator at the Confederate Reunion…” in the Abilene Weekly Reflector (Dickinson County, Kansas) on August 27, 1891
Then there’s that whole sticky freedom and equality thing.
It’s a sticky/problematic thing even though the Committee of Five (and eventually the Second Continental Congress) declared, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” It’s a sticky/problematic thing even though Article IV, Section 2 of the newly formed nation’s Constitution promised “The Citizens of each State shall be entitled to all Privileges and Immunities of Citizens in the several States.” It’s a sticky/problematic thing even though the 5th Amendment, which was ratified along with the Bill of Rights in 1791, states, “No person shall… be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor shall private property be taken for public use, without just compensation.” It’s a sticky/problematic historical thing, because everyone within the country’s borders was not free, equal, equally represented, and/or entitled to the guaranteed the most basic rights, privileges, and immunities. More to the point, the decision to exclude certain individuals was deliberate and intentional (see Article 1, Section 2, Clause 3, quoted below) – although we can argue the level of willfulness that went into the decision.
Then again, even our amendments aren’t always perfect and, more to the point, the way we remember the history of our amendments isn’t even close to perfect. Consider, for instance, the issue of freedom and representation as it pertains to slaves and their descendants. People are quick to laud and celebrate the Emancipation Proclamation, which was issued by President Abraham Lincoln September 22, 1862 and went into effect on January 1, 1863, but the document only applied to the Confederate States of America – which were still in rebellion; meaning, the document (technically) didn’t free a single slave.
In an attempt to persuade Southern states to peacefully rejoin the Union, President Lincoln issued the Proclamation for Amnesty and Reconstruction on December 8, 1863. This was an attempt to not only end the Civil War, but also strengthen his proclamation. But, there were no takers. The Emancipation Proclamation remained purely symbolic – until the end of the war. Even then, however, it would be June 19, 1865, before news of freedom reached Galveston, Texas. And, yes, some of us celebrate that day, Juneteenth.
Much more expedient in its effectiveness, but arguably symbolic in the worst possible way, was the District of Columbia Compensated Emancipation Act. Signed by President Lincoln on April 16, 1862, the Act eventually freed about 3,185 people (and paid out over $100,100,000 as compensation to former owners of those freed). But, outside of Washington D. C. (where it’s a holiday) very few people take notice of the day unless it falls on a weekend and delays the official tax deadline.
Before we get too far down this rocky road, please keep in mind that President Lincoln (and everyone around him) knew the Emancipation Proclamation was more of a symbolic gesture. They knew that, even after the Union won the Civil War, there was a possibility it would be nullified. Not only could it have been nullified if he had lost his re-election bid, some of his contemporaries worried that he might nullify it (on a certain level) in order to restore the Union. However, President Lincoln was quick to reassure the abolitionists. He campaigned on abolishing slavery and then he set out to fulfill that campaign promise.
“At the last session of Congress a proposed amendment of the Constitution abolishing slavery throughout the United States passed the Senate, but failed for lack of the requisite two-thirds vote in the House of Representatives. Although the present is the same Congress and nearly the same members, and without questioning the wisdom or patriotism of those who stood in opposition, I venture to recommend the reconsideration and passage of the measure at the present session. Of course the abstract question is not changed; but an intervening election shows almost certainly that the next Congress will pass the measure if this does not. Hence there is only a question of time as to when the proposed amendment will go to the States for their action. And as it is to so go at all events, may we not agree that the sooner the better? It is not claimed that the election has imposed a duty on members to change their views or their votes any further than, as an additional element to be considered, their judgment may be affected by it. It is the voice of the people now for the first time heard upon the question. In a great national crisis like ours unanimity of action among those seeking a common end is very desirable–almost indispensable. And yet no approach to such unanimity is attainable unless some deference shall be paid to the will of the majority simply because it is the will of the majority. In this case the common end is the maintenance of the Union, and among the means to secure that end such will, through the election, is most dearly declared in favor of such constitutional amendment.”
– quoted from State of the Union 1864, delivered to the United States Congress by President Abraham Lincoln (on 12/6/1864)
Today in 1864, during his State of the Union Address, President Abraham Lincoln urged Congress and the States to take action “the sooner the better” on an amendment to abolish slavery. He proceeded to very actively, more actively than had previously been witnessed in other presidencies, work towards securing the votes needed to pass and ratify what would become the 13th Amendment – which was, in fact, ratified today in 1865.
Ratification of the 13th Amendment “officially” made slavery illegal in the United States. It also rendered the Fugitive Slave Clause moot and created the opportunity for more representation, by eliminating certain aspects of the Three-Fifths Compromise. So, we celebrate today, right? Right??
Funny thing about that ratification: Even before we address things like the 18th Century “Tignon Laws,” the 19th Century “Black Codes” or “Black Laws,” and the “Jim Crow Laws” enacted in the late 19th and early 20 Centuries – or the fact that a 14th and 15th Amendment were needed to secure the rights, privileges, and immunities of former slaves and their descendants (let alone all the Acts) – we need to look at the how the 13th Amendment was ratified.
“Section 1. Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.
Section 2. Congress shall have power to enforce this article by appropriate legislation.”
– “Amendment XIII” of The Constitution of the United States
By the time President Lincoln was assassinated, 21 states had ratified the 13th Amendment (starting with Illinois on Feb. 1, 1865 and continuing to Arkansas on Feb. 14, 1865). When President Andrew Johnson took office, he also made it a priority to get the 13th Amendment ratified. His approach, however, was very different from his predecessor. Instead of encouraging the spirit and intention of the amendment, President Andrew Johnson spent his time assuring states that they would have the power and jurisdiction to limit the scope of the amendment. This led to states like Louisiana (Feb. 17th), South Carolina (Nov. 13th), and Alabama (Dec. 2nd) weakening the implementation and enforcement of the amendment by ratifying with caveats. Further weakening its perception, in certain areas, was the fact that ratification only required three-fourths of the states (at the time that equaled 27 out of 36).
Georgia came through today in 1865 as the 27th (and final) state needed to solidify the ratification. Five states (Oregon, California, Florida, Iowa, and New Jersey (after a 2nd vote) ratified the amendment within a few weeks. Texas would get on board over four years later (on February 18, 1870). Delaware, Kentucky, and Mississippi – all of whom, like New Jersey, initially rejected ratification – would make the amendment official in 1901, 1976, and 1995 (respectively). Curiously, Mississippi didn’t certify their 1995 vote until 2013.
Take a moment, if you are able, to imagine being a former slave – or even the descendant of a former slave – living in one of the states that only ratified the 13th Amendment with a “provisional statement” and/or didn’t ratify it until the 20th Century. You may know when you are technically free, but when does everyone around you recognize that you’re legally free? When do you feel free? Because remember, the Ashtavakra Gita says, “’If one thinks of oneself as free, one is free, and if one thinks of oneself as bound, one is bound. Here this saying is true, ‘Thinking makes it so.’” (1:11)
So, yes, we can talk all day about the fact that slavery “officially” end in 1865. However, we must also remember that for some folks, like Missouri Senator George Graham Vest, who was born today in 1830 – and was the last of the Confederate States Senators to pass, as well as an ardent supporter of the “Lost Cause” ideology – the “War of Northern Aggression” was a war about states’ rights and there was (they believed) an economic, and therefore moral, justification for slavery.
Because he once defended an African American man in a court of law, my bias is such that I would like to say that “The Gentleman from Missouri” was more faceted that I’ve just painted him. However, he is best remembered for arguing a case about the killing of a dog. So, as eloquent as he was, I’m not sure I can make a case for him. There is, however, at least one thing upon which I will agree with him:
“Look at Adam. I have very little use for Adam. When he was asked who ate the apple he said Eve ate a bit of it first. Shame on him for trying to dodge the result. I know that if Adam had been a Missouri ex-confederate soldier he would have said: ‘I ate the apple and what are you going to do about it?’”
– quoted from a speech given by Missouri Senator George Graham Vest on August 21st and printed in “Vest on Succession. Speech of the Senator at the Confederate Reunion…” in the Abilene Weekly Reflector (Dickinson County, Kansas) on August 27, 1891
Please join me for a 65-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Sunday, December 6th) at 2:30 PM. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. Give yourself extra time to log in if you have not upgraded to Zoom 5.0.
You can always request an audio recording of this practice (or any practice) via email or a comment below.
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.)
“When the physical war ended, then the real practical problems presented themselves. How was slavery to be effectively abolished? And what was to be the status of the Negroes? What was the condition and power of the states which had rebelled? The legal solution of these questions was easy. The states that had attempted to rebel had failed. The must now resume their relations to the government. Slavery had been abolished as a war measure….
The difficulty with this legalistic formula was that it did not cling to facts. Slavery was not abolished even after the Thirteenth Amendment. There were four million freedmen and most of them on the same plantation, doing the same work they did before emancipation, except as their work had been interrupted and changed by the upheaval of war. Moreover, they were getting about the same wages and apparently were going to be subject to slave codes modified only in name. There were among them thousands of fugitives in the camps of the soldiers or on the streets of the cities, homeless, sick, and impoverished. They had been freed practically with no land nor money, and, save in exceptional cases, without legal status, and without protection.”
– quoted from Black Reconstruction in America (The Oxford W. E. B. Du Bois): An Essay Toward a History of the Part Which Black Folk Played in the Attempt to Reconstruct Democracy in America, 1860-1880 by W. E. B Du Bois
This is the “missing” post for Sunday, December 5th.You can request an audio recording of either practice via a comment belowor (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.
“You are so young, so much before all beginning, and I would like to beg you, dear Sir, as well as I can, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.”
– quoted from Letter #4 (dated July 16, 1903) addressed to 19-year old officer cadet Franz Xaver Kappus, published in Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke
During the December “First Friday Night Special,” I mentioned that the light-related questions during this year’s Chanukah classes were prompts to get us thinking about our “field of possibilities” and then, on Saturday and Sunday, I revealed that the questions were partially inspired by Rainer Maria Rilke’s advice to the young office cadet and poet Franz Xaver Kappus. If you’ve followed along with the questions, it would be natural to expect that one of the questions would be, “Do you believe in miracles?” It’s an obvious connection when the connected to something like the Chanukah – which, according to the story is all about miracles.
There’s just one problem. Your answer, regardless of what it is, begs another question: “Why?”
Why? Why? Why?
I could be like a three-year old, because all of your answers could lead to another question (albeit the same question), which all comes down to what you believe. The Chanukah story is full of a series of events that could be described or explained as miracles, serendipity, coincidences, and/or really good plot points. For those who believe in Abraham’s God, it doesn’t matter what you call the events, because “with God all things are possible.” [Matthew 19:26] For those who do not believe in God, well, anything is possible…but there’s probably a reasonable (and scientific) explanation. Either way, what you believe determines the probability of certain possibilities.
To be clear, this is not just about what you believe about miracles. This is also about what you believe about your light. Or, a better way to put it is that this is all about what you believe about yourself. Me asking you about the source of your light is really me asking about the source of your life. And what you believe matters, because what you believe bridges the gap between what you think about doing, achieving, and experience and what you actually do, achieve, and experience.
“What’s the reason we’re alive The reason we’re alive
Bound to stumble and fall But my strength comes not from man at all Bound to stumble and fall But my strength comes not from man at all
Do you believe in miracles Am I hearin’ you? Am I seein’ you? Eight nights, eight lights and these rites keep me right Bless me to the highest heights with your miracle
Eight is the number of infinity One more than what you know how to be”
– quoted from the song “Miracle” by Matisyahu
There’s a moment that happens again and again in professional sports and sometimes in the performing arts. Sometimes it even happens when someone is walking across a stage after receiving their diploma. It’s a moment that happens when someone is doing their job – but it’s their dream job, one that many aspire but few achieve – and everybody’s watching. They’ve made mistakes, but they got up, brushed themselves off, and endeavored to win the game and/or take the audience’s breath away. Then they do! they succeed! And when they do, when they score – especially in a phenomenal way – or they receive a standing ovation, we witness a moment of faith. They’ll point a finger to the heavens or make some other gesture that signifies what they believe.
Whether it is a finger to the sky or prayer hands to the sky, it’s a moment that indicates an individual believes that the source of their life (and their light) is God. We may not witness that exact moment in other arenas, like when someone finishes a big project or lands a plum assignment. There may not be witnesses when a student aces a test or a parent gets their toddler to stop climbing out of bed in the middle of the night, but there may be a similar feeling. It’s that same surge of emotion that makes us do the happy dance (even if it’s just on the inside). It’s a combination of success and a feeling of gratitude.
Of course, part of what I’m describing is a dopamine rush. It’s a feeling of greatness and it’s a heady sensation that we humans crave and chase. Here’s the thing, though: We can get that surge of feel-good brain chemicals without doing something at which we might fail. We can get it without taking any risk at all. In fact, to a certain degree, we can get if from watching other people take risks and win. We can get it from being part of a team… even if we’re the 12th man or 12th player.
So, why do some people take the risk? Why do some people do the things at which they might fail? Why do some people show up and shine (or show up and suck until they shine)? Why do some people give it all they’ve got, while others (just) watch?
It all comes back to what some one believes. Which brings us back to the Chanukah story.
Had some Jewish people not truly believed in the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob it’s possible that they would have started assimilating under Alexander the Great. Had Matīṯyāhū, his sons, and the people that followed them not believed it’s probable that they would have become Hellenic Jews under King Antiochus. Had they not studied Torah or believed in the laws and commandments of God, it is possible that Matīṯyāhū would have broken the commandments and sacrificed to the idol – or maybe he would have just allowed the Hellenic Jew to do so in his stead.
Had the Maccabees not believed their history, their fate, and their destiny, perhaps they would have stayed in the wilderness and not taken on the mighty Greek army. Perhaps there would have been no battle cry. Maybe they would have fought and failed. Then, too, there’s always the possibility that they fought and won – despite the odds – and found that single vial of oil, but never considered using it because it wasn’t enough. Then, too, all these centuries later, if people didn’t believe we wouldn’t still be lighting the candles and telling an “impossible” story.
Take a moment, as we did on Sunday, and practice a little svādyāya (“self-study”). Put yourself in the shoes of the Maccabees. Consider how you might have felt and what you might have done given your current beliefs. How might the story be different simply because your beliefs might be different? Now, consider this week’s questions (see below) in that light. Consider how what is in your heart and mind determines your words, actions, and deeds.
“The Maccabees no doubt knew their options, yet decided to light the menorah in the most preferred way. This was done despite the fact that it entailed exhausting their entire supply of pure olive oil on the first day, leaving them with the probability of not being able to maintain the highest standard they so aspired to reach. But they decided to do their maximum with the resources they had, and let the Almighty take care of the rest.
There is a deep message here for us today. How many worthwhile endeavors are cast along the wayside because we are not guaranteed total success? Yet the result of inaction due to fear of failure, is failure by default. We can learn from the Maccabees that when there is a worthwhile goal to achieve, one should let go of immobilizing perfectionism, and instead capitalize on existing assets and do ones utmost under the circumstances.”
– quoted from the article “Give It All You’ve Got: The Maccabees taught us that immobilizing perfectionism leaves no room for God.” by Aliza Kramer (posted at Aish.com Dec 12, 2006)
Today’s playlist is is available on YouTube and Spotify. [“Look for “Chanukah (Day 7-8) 2021”]
NOTE: All of the YouTube playlists (for Chanukah) contain extra videos after the practice music.
“Even if you’re down there for one hour, man, you’re down there.”
– “Tommy” (Kirk Acevedo) to “Vince” (Mark Wahlberg) in the movie Invincible
In 1985, the United Nations General Assembly designated December 5th is International Volunteer Day. The 2021 theme was “Volunteer Now For Our Common Future. The Chanukah story is about people showing up and shining in a way that changed the future of their people. Remember: You too can make a difference!
### “Let me see [your] light / Give me something to live by” ~ Maccabeats ###
This is the post for Tuesday, November 23rd.There is a link at the end for a post related to November 24th. You can request an audio recording of either practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.
“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:”
— Kohelet – Ecclesiastes (3:1), KJV
For many people in the United States, this week is supposed to be about gratitude — and, if you were educated in (or around) the USA, you know at least one story about how the fourth Thursday of November came to be all about gratitude. There’s just one problem… Well, ok, there’s a lot of problems; however, today I just want to mention the fact that the story most of us were taught about the Pilgrims and the “Indians” was only part of the story: the part about gratitude. But, for a very long time we weren’t taught the part about greed.
Now, I know, I’m about to lose some of you — or maybe I’ve already lost you. But, if you stick with me for a moment, you might actually thank me.
Some wise person once said, “History is written by the victors.” We can spend a lot of time contemplating the many weird ways that manifests when it comes to the history of the USA in general, but it’s pretty clear cut when it comes to Thanksgiving. The Pilgrims were the victors and, as many would not have survived 1621 without the aide of the First Nations people, they told a story of peaceful people fleeing religious persecution and then being saved by the kindness of strangers. It’s a “pretty” story — a story for kids— so it usually (and understandably) leaves out how very dire the situation was for the Pilgrims. However, that version also leaves out some pertinent facts about the identities of the people involved. Finally, it leaves out the fact that a day of thanksgiving is very common in a lot of cultures — especially religious cultures — and that other English settlers had already established an annual day of Thanksgiving in the “New World” long before the Pilgrims arrived.
Let’s start with that bit about “other English settlers”.
In 1619 — almost a year before the Pilgrims arrived in the New World — thirty-eight settlers sailed on the Margaret to what we now call Virginia. They traveled to an area of eight thousand acres established as Berkeley Hundred. The Virginia Company of London (also known as the London Company) issued the land grant and directed the settlers to establish a “yearly and perpetually kept” day of Thanksgiving as soon as they arrived. Which they did… a little over two years before the Pilgrims had their Thanksgiving. When the Powhatan people forced the remaining Berkeley Hundred settlers to move to the Jamestown (in March 1622), the settlers continued the tradition of giving thanks in/on a new land.
“Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands.
Serve the Lord with gladness: come before his presence with singing.
Know ye that the Lord he is God: it is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.
Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him, and bless his name.
For the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting; and his truth endureth to all generations.”
— Tehillim – Psalms (100:1-5), KJV
Speaking of “Pilgrims”, let’s get into that bit about identity.
Many of us were taught that the Pilgrims fled religious persecution in England and arrived at “Plymouth Rock” on the Mayflower. So far as I know, that’s mostly true. What many of us were not taught, however, is that they wouldn’t have called themselves “Pilgrims” with a capital P. They were puritans, specifically “Brownists” or “Separatist Puritans” (not to be confused with capital P “Puritans”), who initially fled to Holland in the early 1600’s. This is an important note, because the settlers lived in Holland — and established a relatively stable community in Holland — for over a decade before they decided to travel to the New World.
People had different reasons for wanting to leave Holland. In fact, some of those reasons are the same reasons people today decide to immigrate to the USA. When they arrived at Plymouth Rock, however, they were not straight off the boat from England. Curiously, one of their reasons for leaving Holland was that the religious community was aging and the younger generation had started assimilating. In other words, the children of the adults who had fled religious persecution were more Dutch than English.
According to reports, 102 passengers traveled from Holland to the New World on the Mayflower in the summer of 1620. About half of those people came from Leiden, Holland, but only about 27% of that original number were adult members of the separatist church. Two people died during the 65+ days journey and two people were born — one at sea and one at the shoreline. For the sake of argument, let’s say that the two that died were not part of the congregation. Although one, probably both, of the two that were born were part of the congregation, their numbers wouldn’t have been included as “adults”. So, let’s say, against all odds, all 28 members of the Church survived the journey and participated in the thanksgiving prayer when landed was sighted on November 9, 1620. Either way, by the following month almost everyone was sick and good number (about half) would die during the first winter.
So, think about this for a moment: Heading into the planting season, the less than 50 people remaining were weakened and unprepared for the upcoming winter. Truth be told, they were unprepared from the start. According to one of those on board the Mayflower, they “borrowed” corn and beans from the existing homes they found when they first came on shore. I say “borrowed” because their intention was to pay for the seeds they intended to plant — seeds they would not have had had they not stolen borrowed them. In other words, without those seeds it is unlikely they would have had anything to eat during the winter of 1621. We can say that they were ill and desperate. We can say that they had the best of intentions. But…
The settlers first direct contact with the people from whom the most likely stole was understandably not good — although that’s not usually part of the story. What is part of the story and what is probably true is that despite having some bad encounters, there were some First Nations leaders who were willing to help the settlers.
But then there’s the whole issue of who those First Nations people were. There were hundreds of tribes in the so-called New World when settlers arrived in the 1600’s. These First Nations included a variety of groups associated with the Wampanoa (or Wôpanâak), including the Nauset, Patuxet, and Pauquunaukit (or Pokanoket) — all of whom had encountered English settlers before the Pilgrims arrived and did not necessarily have favorable history with those settlers. Past experiences had taught the First Nations people that encounters with the English would result in loss, either through theft, violence, or illness. In fact, the Pilgrims settled on land that had previously belonged to people (the Patuxet) who died from an epidemic.
In theory, the lone survivor of the infectious disease that wiped out the Patuxet was Tisquantum, who had been kidnapped and sold into slavery in Spain; taken to England in the early 1600’s; and then returned to his village in 1619 (after being “anglicized” and possibly baptized) — only to find his village decimated. Probably for a variety of reasons, he helped the Pilgrims survive. However, there is some discrepancy about the Pilgrims’ first Thanksgiving. Some accounts say that the First Nations people were not initially/officially invited, but were welcomed once they arrived. Other accounts suggest the table was always blended.
Why are there different accounts? Because they were told by different people.
“There were 60 million American Indians in 1491. In the census, in 1910, there were 200,000. And a lot of that population loss is due to diseases: measles, smallpox, and so forth. For the colonizers who were greedy for Indian lands, there were two ways to get it: Either by killing people or by making them ‘non-Indians.’”
— P. Jane Hafen (Taos Pueblo), Professor Emirata of English, University of Nevada-Las Vegas in a PBS “Unladylike 2020” interview about Zitkála-Šá
“When desires invade our faculty of discernment – our buddhi – we become consumed by fulfilling them at any cost. Because our buddhi is compromised, we neither see nor care to see the difference between right and wrong. Ethics and morality no longer matter – we are determined to get what we want. To accomplish this, we may involve others directly in achieving what is not ours, employ others to get it for us, or give tacit consent. To some extent, this has been accepted as a standard business practice.”
— commentary on Yoga Sūtra 2.37 from The Practice of the Yoga Sūtra: Sadhana Pada by Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, PhD
At the end of Tuesday’s practices, I asked if people would rather be grateful or greedy. It’s a question for those of us living in a material world, but I also think it’s a great question because of the times in which we are living. It is so easy to view things we want as things we need and, in the process, lose sight of the things we have. We might even lose the opportunity to “get what we need”, because we are so focused on the things we want (and remember “we can’t always get what we want”). Sometimes, we’re so busy waiting for something to happen that we forget about what is happening, right here and right now.
During the 2015 Sukkot retreat, some of us started saying, “Don’t be greedy, be grateful.” First, it was a much needed reminder because the food was so amazing! Later, for me, it became a great little mantra when I found myself wanting more of something — whether that was more of my favorite treat, more yoga with a certain teacher, and/or more time with a special person in my life. Moving the focus from desire to appreciation changed my behavior around those specific elements, and also changed the way I interacted with all the other aspects of myself and my life. Turns out, that’s part of the practice.
In the Yoga Sūtras, Patanjali classified attachment rooted in pleasure (which we referred to as attachment) and attachment rooted in pain (which we referred to as aversion) as afflicted/dysfunctional thought patterns that are rooted in avidyā (“ignorance”) and lead to suffering. Part of that suffering comes from the fact that things and people change in ways that are not consistent with our desires and expectations. Another part of that suffering comes from the fact that we can spend so much time and energy focused on obtaining and achieving what we want and avoiding what we don’t want that our judgement becomes cloudy. We find ourselves, like the religious colonizers, acting in ways that are in direct opposition of our beliefs. In fact, we can get so greedy — so covetous, if you will — that we forget that laws that govern us.
Religions (like all of the Abrahamic faiths) and philosophies (like Yoga and Buddhism) have laws, rules, and/or precepts related to stealing. We can look at these as guidelines that keep order within a society, but if we dig deeper we start to notice that they also keep order within an individual. For example, the Yoga Philosophy begins with an ethical component comprised of five yamas (“external restraints” or universal commandments) and five niyamas (internal “observations”). All ten are interconnected, but there is a direct connection between the third yama and the second niyama. The third yama is asteya (“non-stealing”) and the second niyama is santosha (“contentment”). We can easily see how being satisfied, even happy, with what we have curbs the urge to desire what belongs to someone else. It turns out, however, that accepting what we have with a sense of awe, wonder, and gratitude can also lead to happiness.
“Logically, there is no reason why contentment should cause happiness. One might – if one had never experience it – reasonably suppose that an absence of desire would merely produce a dull, neutral mood, equally joyless and sorrowless. The fact that this is not so is a striking proof that intense happiness, the joy of Atman [the Soul], is always within us; that it can be released at any time by breaking down the barriers of desire and fear which we have built around it. How, otherwise, could we be so happy without any apparent reason?”
— quoted from How to Know God: The Yoga Aphorisms of Patanjali (2:42), translated and with commentary by Swami Prabhavananda and Christopher Isherwood
Modern research has shown again, and again, that giving thanks — or even trying to come up with something for which you are grateful — changes your brain chemistry and, over time, can elevate your baseline for happiness. Practicing gratitude is a game changer and an attitude changer. So, while there are certain times in the year that we’ve designated as a day of thanks, the truth is that we can benefit from practicing gratitude every day.
The 16th century rabbi Moshe ben Machir (or Moshe ben Yehudah haMachiri) was the author of Seder haYom, first published in 1598/1599. The title literally means “Today’s Order” and gives a detailed outline of how an observant Jew should move through the days of their life. The day starts with a prayer, a prayer of thanks. This prayer (“Modeh Ani” / “Modah Ani”) is very interesting on several different levels. First, it is described as the very first thing one does. Can you imagine saying, “Thank you” before doing anything else? Even before washing one’s hands or brushing one’s teeth, even before checking one’s phone (in a modern context).
Think for a moment about that old adage about waking up on the wrong side of the bed. That implies that there is a right or correct side of the bed. It’s all about how you start your day.
Now, imagine what happens if you start your day with gratitude.
Second interesting thing: This is not a generic thank you. It is specifically a thank you, to G-d, for keeping one’s soul safe and then returning it to one’s body. Here’s two more things to keep in mind. First, most Jewish prayers are said after one washes their hands. So this prayer is different in that it doesn’t use the name of G-d. Second, just like with a lot of sacred languages, Hebrew uses the same word(s) for spirit/soul as for breath. Hebrew is different from some other languages, however, in that it has specific words for spirit/soul/breath in the body (inhale) versus outside of the body (exhale). So this prayer is about being grateful for being given this day and this breath. It is an acknowledgement that this day, this present moment, is not promised. It is a gift. It is a gift, in the religious context, of faith — given with the belief that one will do something with the time they have been given.
Outside, of a religious context, starting the day by saying, “Thank you for this day. Thank you for the air I breathe…” is a reminder that this day and this breath are valuable and worthy of appreciation. That specific phrasing is courtesy of Jess, a person in the UK who uploads guided meditations on YouTube. I really appreciate their vocal tone and accent and find that, even after a few weeks of using the recording, the best parts of the practice have taken root. And, just like other things that take root, more gratitude blossoms from there.
Try it. Even without the recording below. I bet if you say the first two, you’ll start to think of other things — even people — for which you are grateful. I feel pretty comfortable in betting you that if you consistently appreciate the things and people you have in your life, you will gain new appreciation of your life.
“You don’t start by the action; you start by the motivation, and motivation is something that can be cultivated…..
It is the inner quality that you need to cultivate first, and then the expression in speech and action will just naturally follow. The mind is the king. The speech and the activities are the servants. The servants are not going to tell the king how it is going to be. The king has to change, and then the other ones follow up.”
— Matthieu Ricard, speaking about generosity and other mental attitudes in a 2011 Sounds True interview with Tami Simon, entitled “Happiness is a Skill”
Tuesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “02072021 Santosha on the 7th”]
Just a reminder that there was no class on Wednesday, November 24th, but I sent out substitute recordings related to this date-specific practice. I will also send out substitute recordings for Saturday. Classes will “re-zoom” on Sunday, November 28th.
This is the post for Sunday, November 21st.You can request an audio recording of Sunday’s practice via a comment belowor (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.
“277. The heart has its reasons, which reason doesn’t know; we know this in a thousand things. I say that the heart—if it works at it—naturally loves the universal being, and also naturally loves itself; and it hardens itself against one or the other as it chooses”
.
– quoted from “Section 4: The routes to belief” in Pensées (Thoughts) by Blaise Pascal*
There’s a moment we probably all experienced at least once or twice as a child – possibly even as an adult. It’s that moment when we lose something we thought or felt we had been promised. I think of it as the “fallen ice cream” moment. You know, that moment when you’re enjoying something – like your favorite ice cream cone on a hot day – and then a good majority of the ice cream falls and goes splat on the ground. Maybe it’s in the middle of an intersection or may there’s a dog that very “helpfully” starts cleaning it up.
Either way, that ice cream is gone.
Sometimes it’s even worse if the bottom falls out and it’s the last bit that you lose. Still, either way, for a moment, you forget all about the ice cream you had and/or have left. For a moment, all you’re thinking about is the loss. What’s even worse is if you were told it would fall if you didn’t stop licking on the one side; or if you were told you had to be careful of the bottom; or if you and your siblings had been told to stop horsing around. It’s worse, because that warning means that someone (usually you) are responsible for the inevitable consequences. So, then there’s some anger, blame, shame, and guilt, mixed in with the grief.
Sure, we can say it’s a kid’s grief over something inconsequential and sure we can say we’re going to get over it – and we do. However, for a moment, we’re only focused on the loss. And even after we finish the ice cream we still had left, we can feel like we missed out on something. There’s a hollowness; that too is grief.
Ever have that experience? Ever consider that that experience – an experience that can ruin your whole day – was all in your head? It’s true. I’m not saying that the thing didn’t happen. Whatever happened absolutely happened. The loss was real. The grief was real. Even the way you physically embodied that experience, the hollowness, was real. But the whole experience was based on the fact that you lost something you valued. In other words, the whole experience was based on the fact that you lost something you appreciated and something to which you had an attachment.
Consider how extreme that feeling can be. Not only that feeling you had as a child; consider that there is something (or someone) you have lost as an adult that left you with that same “if I just had more…” feeling. Wanting, desire, passion – which comes from the Latin word meaning “to suffer” – are part of life. Loss and the physical and emotional sensations associated with it are part of life. Philosophically, part of the Yoga practice is about opposites. So, as you think about that extreme reaction to unexpectedly losing something or someone, consider the opposite.
How do you feel when you unexpectedly receive something you value and appreciate?
“We picked up one excellent word—a word worth travelling to New Orleans to get; a nice limber, expressive, handy word—’lagniappe.’ They pronounce it lanny-yap. It is Spanish—so they said. We discovered it at the head of a column of odds and ends in the Picayune, the first day; heard twenty people use it the second; inquired what it meant the third; adopted it and got facility in swinging it the fourth. It has a restricted meaning, but I think the people spread it out a little when they choose. It is the equivalent of the thirteenth roll in a ‘baker’s dozen.’ It is something thrown in, gratis, for good measure. The custom originated in the Spanish quarter of the city. When a child or a servant buys something in a shop—or even the mayor or the governor, for aught I know—he finishes the operation by saying—’Give me something for lagniappe.’
*
The shopman always responds; gives the child a bit of licorice-root, gives the servant a cheap cigar or a spool of thread, gives the governor—I don’t know what he gives the governor; support, likely.
*
When you are invited to drink, and this does occur now and then in New Orleans—and you say, ‘What, again?—no, I’ve had enough;’ the other party says, ‘But just this one time more—this is for lagniappe.’”
.
– quoted from “Chapter XLIV. City Sights” in Life on the Mississippi by Mark Twain
I grew up in and around the Gulf Coast, where you are just as likely to hear someone refer to “lagniappe” as you are to hear them refer to “baker’s dozen.” Lagniappe is a Louisiana French word for that little something extra a customer receives for free when they make a purchase. Think of a free beignet with your café au lait or hot chocolate; a little cookie beside your gelato; or a bundle of peppers from a roadside vegetable stand. Like so much of Louisiana’s culture, the word is a mixture of Spanish, French, and Quechua – an indigenous language found in Peru and parts of Bolivia, Chile, Colombia, and Ecuador. It’s a word, and practice, that you will find in other areas of the world that have been exposed to a similar mixture of cultures.
While lagniappe is often associated with hospitality, “a baker’s dozen” is whole-heartedly connected to commerce. In a modern context we think of it as 13, but at least one source marks it as 14. According to The Oxford Companion to Sugar and Sweets (2015) and other sources, the practice of adding an extra loaf (or two), to an order of a dozen dates back at least to the thirteenth century England. Some attribute the practice to the Assize of Bread and Ale, which regulated the price, weight, and quality of bread and beer. Some say that because homemade bread and rolls varied in size and weight, bakers would add a little extra in order to guarantee they were not selling below the standard. When John Camden Hotten published his 1864 edition of A dictionary of modern slang, cant, and vulgar words, he indicated that the bakers were incentivized to add that little extra because the penalties for underselling goods included fines, destruction of the baker’s oven, and being placed in the stocks (or pillory) and subjected to public humiliation.
However, in The Oxford Companion to Sugar and Sweets, Darra Goldstein notes that the original practice of adding a loaf (or two) to an order of a dozen, may actually be connected to “hucksters.” If you only know the word in a modern context, especially in the United States, then you may associate the word with someone who is out to trick you. However, the etymology of the word can be traced to medieval words meaning “to haggle” and vendors who either sold things door-to-door or from roadside stands. Hucksters of old not only haggle with their customers, they would also be quite loud and showy as they hawked their wares. (Yes, “hawker” is another term that is sometimes applied to this type of peddler.)
Some of these peddlers would water down ale or in other ways deflated the value, which (combined with their showiness) is why the term became a pejorative. However, the original meaning of “huckster” was just someone who was trying to make a living by selling things – a job made harder by stall taxes and things like the the Assize of Bread and Ale, which required hucksters to sell goods for the same price at which they purchased them. The law meant that they only way the hucksters, who were often woman, could make any money was if they had a little extra to sell. The bakers knew that they could sell more of their baked goods with the help of the hucksters and so they would throw in a loaf (or two) to give the hucksters a little advantage. Hence the reason why the extra was sometimes called “in-bread” or the “vantage loaf.” All in all, a mutually beneficial practice that kept the economy flowing.
Speaking of flowing…
For many years, I didn’t teach for about ten days each November because I was in Texas stage managing a production of the ballet The Nutcracker. I would typically have subs while I was gone and most of the people who came to the studio classes were regular attendees who had purchased packages. If you purchased a package of six, ten, or twelve you received a price break – meaning that if you based your calculations on the drop-in rate, you received an extra class or two (depending on the size of the package). So, one could think of the class with the sub as lagniappe. I often think of subs treating people to a little something extra because people get to experience different ways of sequencing; the opportunity to practice something I don’t often cue; and/or a different perspective on some aspect of the practice. All of those are, to me, like an extra donut hole – a sweet nothing!
For the last two or three years, I’ve had these extra days to share the practice with the people with whom I love to share the practice! And, so, the question becomes: What will be the little something extra?
Or, more importantly, what will people appreciate?
I mostly teach vinyāsa practices, which means there’s movement and an inclined series that often involves some variation of a push-up. But, I also teach with a lot alignment and breath cues, not to mention the theme. If you’re someone who is familiar with a “flowing” practice that is not taught with an alignment focus, the alignment cues can be a little something extra. If you are use to an Iyengar Yoga practice, where you may not encounter an inclined series very often, the vinyāsa can be like extra green chilis thrown in your bag. Of course, a lot of people don’t cue the breath unless they notice everyone is out of breath – so that can be the lagniappe. Then too, if you typically practice a seated meditation like vipassanā, where there is heightened focus on the breath and how it feels to breath, all the movement and poses are lagniappe.
Finally, there are my themes, which some people would say are just… extra.
“I don’t know where I am going, but I am on my way.”
.
– attributed to Voltaire*
November 21st is the considered the anniversary of the birth of the writer, philosopher, and historian Voltaire (whose nom de plume or “pen name” could be a class all unto its self). Born François-Marie Arouet, in 1694, this prominent figure from the Age of Enlightenment wrote in pretty much every form and about pretty much everything related to life – including science, religion, freedom of speech, love, social standings, and the hardships of life. While he wrote about tolerating others and their beliefs, his views were often couched in racism, anti-Semitism, Islamophobia, and other forms of bigotry. Just to be clear, he was an equal opportunist when it came to his opinions about how others were wrong and could (and did) use his witty to eloquently slam people who were perceived like him just as easily as people who were perceived as different.
His words (as evidenced by the ones I used here and in class) are often thought provoking, which can be a good place to start when putting together a class – if, you know, we leave out all his horrible views and actions and just focus on his words out of context. (But, to be honest, I wasn’t feeling it.) Voltaire had notoriously bad health and an autopsy revealed that had an enlarged prostate – which means he could be the entrée for a Movember theme. (To bad all the images of him are extremely clean shaven.)
In the end, I went back to that feeling of unexpected loss and how so much of what we feel – physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and energetically – is in our heads. One aspect of the Yoga Philosophy is how our thoughts disempower us and how we can use our minds (and the practice) to overcome the obstacles and ailments that arise with the obstacles. Similarly, Buddhism focuses on how we can end our suffering. Ultimately, it all comes down to perspective and how we think about what we are experiencing.
As we head into this week where so many will be giving thanks, take a moment to consider how you experience and express appreciation (sometimes without saying a word). Then consider how often your appreciation, and expression, show up as attachment or aversion – which Patanjali classifies as afflicted/dysfunctional thought patterns that lead to suffering. Finally, take a moment to contemplate how much of your experience is controlled by your thoughts.
“A witty saying proves nothing.”
.
– quoted from Le dîner du comte de Boulainvilliers (The Dinner at Count Boulainvillier’s) by Voltaire (pub. 1728)
Today’s playlist is is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “07072021 Bread & Chocolate”]
*Errata: During Sunday’s practice, I misattributed the first quote (see above) and it’s entirely possible that one of the other quotes attributed to Voltaire is actually someone else’s statement. My apologies. Hopefully you didn’t quote me.
*
### “If a picture paints a thousand words, / Then why can’t I paint you?” ~B&C ###
###
