The Serendipity Practice (the “missing” and “long-lost” Sunday post for 1/28) March 11, 2024
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in "Impossible" People, Books, Changing Perspectives, Faith, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Movies, Music, One Hoop, Pain, Philosophy, Science, Suffering, Tragedy, Vairagya, Vipassana, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: Aimee Lehto, Beau Lotto, Boyd Croyner, Carl Jung, chaos theory, Christa McAuliffe, Ed Sheeran, Elvis Presley, Horace Walpole, Horatio Walpole, Jackie Gleason, John Cusack, Jostein Gaarder, Kate Beckinsale, LEGO, Muhammad Ali, Pavlov's dog, samskaras, samskāras, santosha, santoşā, serendipity, shoshin, Space Shuttle Challenger, synchronicity, T. H. Huxley, Thomas Henry Huxley, vasanas, Voltaire, vāsanā, vāsanās, yoga philosophy, Yoga Sutra 2.20
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May we all be safe and protected / May we all be peaceful and happy / May we all be healthy and strong / May we all appreciate the “accidental goodness” in our lives.
This is the “missing” post for Sunday, January 28th. It includes some previously posted content. In the final notes section, there is a reference to a tragic event. You can request an audio recording of a related practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.
Check out the “Class Schedules” calendar for upcoming classes.
“The causality principle asserts that the connection between cause and effect is a necessary one. The synchronicity principle asserts that the terms of a meaningful coincidence are connected by simultaneity and meaning…. Although meaning is an anthropomorphic interpretation it nevertheless forms the indispensable criterion of synchronicity. What that factor which appears to us as ‘meaning’ may be in itself we have no possibility of knowing. As an hypothesis, however, it is not quite so impossible as may appear at first sight. We must remember that the rationalistic attitude of the West is not the only possible one and is not all-embracing, but is in many ways a prejudice and a bias that ought perhaps to be corrected.”
— quoted from “3. Forerunners of the Idea of Synchronicity” in Synchronicity: An Acausal Connecting Principle by C. G. Jung
Causality, the principles of cause and effect, is a big aspect of the Yoga Philosophy — and I am, without a doubt, a big fan. I am quick to go down the proverbial rabbit hole to see how things are connected. Of course, everything is connected: we just don’t always see/make/understand the connections. As indicated in Yoga Sūtra 2.20, “The Seer is the pure power of seeing, yet its understanding is through the mind/intellect.” This doesn’t mean that someone who sees/understands something that others don’t is smarter than those others; it simply means that they see things in a different way… a special way.
For much of my life, I have seen things in special ways. My tendency to seek out connections has resulted in me seeing and making connections that other people don’t initially see/make. At some points in my life, others have viewed the way I think as interesting, weird, cute, and/or a sign of being “smart” (or of “thinking too much”). More than one university professor commented that my logic was sound, but that “no one else” — meaning no one with credentials in the Western canon — had come to such a conclusion and therefore….
Perhaps, you have heard the same thing about something that has occurred to you. Suffice it to say, I heard that something I did was “a bit of a stretch” long before I started teaching yoga.
Thankfully, I received some halfway decent marks despite the fact that my content was unexpected. More importantly, I was never forced to conform and, therefore, never got completely stuck in the trap Carl Jung warned us about: the trap created by believing that there is one way (the Western way) to see things. I eventually understood that the workings of our mind/intellect are based on more than brain chemistry. The way we think is also based on all the different things we have experienced; all the different perspectives to which we have been exposed; how open we are to possibilities other than the ones we are seeking; and how aware we are that we are the ones creating the meaning.
“This discovery, indeed, is almost of that kind which I call Serendipity, a very expressive word, which, as I have nothing better to tell you, I shall endeavor to explain to you: you will understand it better by the derivation than the definition. I once read a silly fairy tale, called ‘The Three Princes of Serendip:’ as their Highnesses travelled, they were always making discoveries, by accidents and sagacity, of things which they were not in quest of: for instance, one of the them discovered that a mule blind of the right eye had travelled the same road lately, because the grass was eaten only on the left side, where it was worse than on the right….”
— quoted from a letter addressed to Sir Horace Mann, dated January 28, 1754, by Horace Walpole (The Right Honorable The (4th) Earl of Orford, Horatio Walpole)
When Horace Walpole, the Right Honorable Earl of Orford, shared the word and meaning of serendipity, in a letter dated January 28, 1754, he cited the English version of a Persian story (from at least 1302) that had come into the English canon by way of French and Italian translations. Each version of the story is slightly different, but the common elements are (1) a king who sends his sons out into the world to give them the best possible education and (2) the three princes who already have been educated by the best teachers* and tutors in their homeland. As the three princes travelled, they paid attention to all the details around them and — using their knowledge, skills of deduction, and insight (based on “[seeing] things in a special way”) — came to conclusions that were obvious to them but not so obvious to others.
Perhaps the most famous of their adventures is the one cited by the earl, in which the princes described and located a missing camel (or mule). To be clear, the princes were not looking for the animal in question; but, others were looking and those others believed the princes had the animal (or knew where to find it) because the princes knew so much about the animal. They knew it was slightly lame, blind in one eye, missing a tooth and carrying a pregnant woman while bearing honey on one side and butter on the other. They knew all this despite the fact that, at the point in the story when they are accused of stealing the animal, the princes had never seen it! They had only seen evidence of it and made connections that led to certain logical conclusions. While Horace Walpole called the story “a silly fairytale,” others — including Voltaire (in 1747) — recognized the story as containing the cornerstones of deductive reasoning (both psychologically and logically) and of the scientific method.
“Those who are interested in learning more of the fateful history of Zadig must turn to the original; we are dealing with him only as a philosopher, and this brief excerpt suffices for the exemplification of the nature of his conclusions and of the methods by which he arrived at them.”
“[Zadig’s] defence was worse than his offence. It showed that his mode of divination was fraught with danger to magianism in general. Swollen with the pride of human reason, he had ignored the established canons of magian lore; and, trusting to what after all was mere carnal common sense, he professed to lead men to a deeper insight into nature than magian wisdom, with all its lofty antagonism to everything common, had ever reached. What, in fact, lay at the foundation of all Zadig’s argument but the coarse commonplace assumption, upon which every act of our daily lives is based, that we may conclude from an effect to the pre-existence of a cause competent to produce that effect?”
— quoted from the essay “On the Method of Zadig: Retrospective Prophecy as a Function of Science” (1880) in Collected Essays, Volume 4. Science and Hebrew Tradition by T. H. Huxley
Serendipity, like chaos theory, often gets twisted in books, movies, and music. For instance, in the 2001 romantic comedy with John Cusack and Kate Beckinsale, the couple are actually looking for each other and looking for clues that will lead each to the other. Sure, there are all kinds of coincidences (or cowinkydinks) and near-misses that are described (in the movie) as fate. And, I could see how the situation could be serendipitous.** However, the couple in the movie are more like the villagers looking for the camel (or mule) and less like the the princes. What they experience is more synchronicity (i.e., things happening at the same time) than serendipity.
Just as I am a big fan of causality, I am also a big fan of synchronicity and serendipity. As much as I pay attention to cause-and-effect, I often delight in things that just seem to “randomly” fall into place and things (or people) that show up when I “need” them, but wasn’t looking for them. Granted, there are times when I consider chaos theory and see if I can trace everything back to some little thing that started the domino effect; however, I’m also just open to being pleasantly surprised by “accidental goodness.”
Do you know what I mean? Has that happened to you?
Have you ever read a horoscope or had someone tell you your future and it seemed right on? Have you gone into a practice (or any situation) and been surprised that you got exactly what “wanted” and/or “needed,” sometimes in an unexpected way?
We could say, as Thomas Henry Huxley pointed out in 1880, “In all these cases, it is only the relation to time which alters — the process of divination beyond the limits of possible direct knowledge remains the same.“ However, sometimes there is direct knowledge. Sometimes someone is taking known information and putting it together so that you see/make a connection. Then this becomes similar to the way you can understand what a child makes with their LEGO bricks (the patent for which was filed January 28, 1958, presumably at 1:58 PM). You know what the child makes because they tell you what they are making and your brain fills in the gaps based on the shape. Sometimes, the shape is really obvious — and maybe you have the picture from the LEGO packaging. Other times, your brain really has to work hard to see what the child is seeing.
“If you already understand what I am getting at, you may skip this next paragraph. But just in case, I will clarify: You have a box of Legos [sic] and you build a Lego horse. You then take it apart and put the blocks back in the box. You cannot expect to make a new horse just by shaking the box. How could Lego blocks of their own accord find each other and become a new horse again? No, you have to rebuild the hose, Sophie, And the reason you can do it is that you have a picture in your mind of what the horse looked like. The Lego horse is made from a model which remains unchanged from horse to horse.”
— quoted from the lesson “PLATO’S ACADEMY: The World of Ideas” in the chapter “Plato… a longing to return to the realm of the soul…” of Sophie’s World: A Novel About the History of Philosophy by Jostein Gaarder
Whether we realize it or not, our lives are put together the way our practice is put together — which is the same way we are instructed to build something with LEGO bricks: from the ground up. Aha! moments, lightbulb moments, epiphanies, and even “happy accidents” are all built on a foundation. We have to be prepared to see the things we see, even when we are not expecting to see them. We have to have the picture — i.e., the possibility — in our minds. We also have to be open to the way the bricks are connected. Ultimately, that’s what I’m really asking:
How open are you to these kinds of things?
My guess — and it’s not much of a stretch — is that your open-ness, or lack thereof, is based on past experiences. I mean, on a certain level, everything is based on past experiences. We do something new and a new neural pathway is created, a new thin veil of saṃskāra (“mental impression”) is lowered over us. We do that same thing again and we start to hardwire that new neural pathway, the veil becomes more opaque. Over time, our behaviors and reactions become so hardwired, that our saṃskāra become vāsanā (“dwelling” place for our habits) and we believe that our habits are innate or instinctive — when, in fact, they are conditioned.
This is true when things seem to randomly and luckily fall into place, as well as when a fortune cookie seems to be spot on. This is also true when we are not so fortunate or blessed; when things don’t seem to easily fall into place or when we don’t “randomly” get what we didn’t know we needed. Furthermore, our physical-mental-emotional response to the so-called “happy accidents” is just as conditioned as our physical-mental-emotional response to things not going our way. We are as much like Pavlov’s dogs as we are like the one-eyed mule (or camel) observed by the Princes of Serendip. To do something other than salivate at the appearance of certain objects and/or to eat on the side of the road we can’t easily “see” is “impossible.”
“Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they’ve been given than to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact. It’s an opinion. Impossible is not a declaration. It’s a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary.
Impossible is nothing.”
— quoted from a 2004 Adidas ad campaign written by Aimee Lehto (with final tag line credited to Boyd Croyner), often attributed to Muhammad Ali
Per chaos theory, little changes in conditioning can change the outcome. Those little changes in conditioning can also change our understanding of a situation and its outcome. They change our “space of possibility.” We start to notice causality and, in the process, start to add to the story — which essentially changes the story. At other times, little changes in conditioning can change our understanding of what is possible and, therefore, what is probable.
All that can change our actions. For instance, consider the comedian Jackie Gleason and how he reacted to Elvis Presley’s first national television*** appearance, on January 28, 1956. No one had seen anything like Elvis before and no one knew how far he would go. So, not surprisingly, Mr. Gleason initially missed certain signs (like how the audience reacted to Elvis) and said, “He can’t last, I tell you flatly, he can’t last.”
To be fair (to Jackie Gleason), there were several reasons why the comedian and producer initially missed the signs. First, “Heartbreak Hotel” had just been released as a single (the day before). Second, Elvis was still relatively unknown on a national level and not many people showed up to see Elvis when he first performed on the weekly program Stage Show. Despite his initially reaction, Jackie Gleason and the other producers of Stage Show scheduled Elvis to perform two shows in January and two shows in February. The future “King of Rock and Roll” performed “Shake Rattle And Roll,” “Flip Flop and Fly,” and “I Got A Woman.” By the time Elvis finished the first show, his schedule was extended to include two more appearances on the Stage Show — thanks, in part, to Jackie Gleason observing the situation, making connections, and coming to certain conclusions.
Ultimately, those are the secrets to serendipity and to practicing serendipity:
- Observing causes and conditions, in order to have as much information as possible;
- Being open to possibilities (and possible connections);
- Letting go of what was; and
- Being right here, right now, with present-moment awareness.
“In no very distant future, the method of Zadig, applied to a greater body of facts than the present generation is fortunate enough to handle, will enable the biologist to reconstruct the scheme of life from its beginning, and to speak as confidently of the character of long extinct beings, no trace of which has been preserved, as Zadig did of the queen’s spaniel and the king’s horse.”
— quoted from the essay “On the Method of Zadig: Retrospective Prophecy as a Function of Science” (1880) in Collected Essays, Volume 4. Science and Hebrew Tradition by T. H. Huxley
Sunday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.
*NOTE: While most of this practice focused on “happy accidents,” I do reference one tragic accident: the Space Shuttle Challenger explosion. On January 28, 1986, all seven crew members were killed, including Christa McAuliffe, who was selected to be the first schoolteacher in space. In the past, when I offered more direct suggestions for personal dedications, I would include a passing reference to family, friends, co-workers, students, and others who remember and were inspired by F. Richard Scobee (Commander), Michael J. Smith (Pilot), Ronald McNair (Mission Specialist), Ellison Onizuka (Mission Specialist), Judith Resnik (Mission Specialist), Gregory Jarvis (Payload Specialist), and Christa McAuliffe (Payload Specialist / teacher). This year, I ended the practice with the words of S. Christa McAullife who said, “If you’re offered a seat on a rocket ship, don’t ask what seat. JUST GET ON!” and “Reach for the stars. Reach for it! Push yourself as far as you can.”
**Spoiler Alert (that’s not really spoiling the movie): Theoretically and hypothetically (because this doesn’t happen in the movie), if the couple in Serendipity were seeking something that ended up getting torn apart, and the pieces were used to make a painting/collage that was placed in a museum — without anyone knowing the source of the material for the collage, then them discovering the information they sought could be considered serendipitous because they weren’t looking for a painting/collage.
*** CORRECTION: I sometimes refer to Elvis’s appearance on Stage Show as his first television appearance; however, it was his first time on a nationally broadcasted show. He had previously appeared on a local broadcast, Louisiana Hayride, that aired on KSLA-TV (in Shreveport, La) on March 5, 1955.
### “I’m gonna pick up the pieces” ~ Ed Sheeran ###
Grace & FTWMI: What Dreams May Come (on May 6th) May 6, 2023
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Books, Changing Perspectives, Dharma, Donate, Faith, Healing Stories, Health, Hope, Karma Yoga, Life, Music, One Hoop, Pain, Peace, Philosophy, Science, Suffering, Volunteer, Wisdom, Women, Yoga.Tags: Anna O, Bertha Pappenheim, Carl Jung, dream interpretation, dreams, Electra, Josef Breuer, KISS MY ASANA, Oedipus, psychoanalysis, rabbits, Shastra, shastra kripa, Sigmund Freud, US movie, yoga, Yoga Sutra 1.10, Yoga Sutra 1.38
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Many blessings to everyone, and especially to anyone Counting the Omer!
“The mind is like an iceberg, it floats with one-seventh of its bulk above water.”
– possibly Sigmund Freud, as quoted in his New York Times obituary (09/24/1939)
Last week’s explanation of different traditions having different understandings of the meaning of shastra, might have induced fever dreams. However, the essence of the different meanings – as it relates to our practice and the concept of “grace of shastra” – is the same: Shastra is a collection of knowledge or laws of nature that are true, that have “always been and will always be” true, and that can be communicated directly. Some of the difference in meanings comes from how the knowledge or rules of nature are communicated – and to whom. Because, for some, the knowledge can only be communicated directly from the Divine to someone who has done the work to reach a certain state of enlightenment and/or awareness.
Of course, a teacher can then communicate the truth to others; however, those others must also do the work in order to truly understand the knowledge or precepts. Today, let’s consider one of the ways in which someone could initially and directly receive the truth. (Warning: Yoga Sūtra 1.10 is a bit of a caveat.)
Yoga Sūtra 1.38: svapna nidrā jñānālambanaṁ
– “Or by meditating on the knowledge gained from dreams and sleep, one acquires stability of mind.”
For Those Who Missed It: The following was originally posted on May 6, 2020. Other than moving the very first quote (above), I have added a link and updated the class details, but the content is the same.
“The conscious mind may be compared to a fountain playing in the sun and falling back into the great subterranean pool of subconscious from which it rises.”
– Sigmund Freud, as quoted in his New York Times obituary (09/24/1939)
“The interpretation of dreams is the royal road to knowledge of the unconscious activities of the mind.”
– from The Interpretation of Dreams by Sigmund Freud
Let’s talk about our dreams. During this pandemic, some people have mentioned having particularly wild dreams – even when they weren’t sick. People have also talked about either remembering or not remembering their dreams, but in the opposite way than what is normal for them. I recently dreamed there was a brown rabbit sitting at the foot of my bed. It wasn’t doing anything; just hopped up and sat there for a bit. Not touching me, or biting me – not even really looking at me or wiggling its nose – just sitting there.
Prior to seeing the movie US, a dream like that would have had me running to search for Freud’s take on the symbolism of rabbits. Rather than going down that particular (and surprising) rabbit hole, let’s just stick with the work and the history.
Born today (May 6th) in 1856, Dr. Sigmund Freud was a neurologist who studied researched cerebral paralysis or cerebral palsy, as it is known today. In an attempt to better understand the workings of the brain, Freud collaborated with Dr. Josef Breuer, a physician who utilized a type of hypnosis very different from what Freud had previously studied. Breuer’s work, especially with a patient referred to as “Anna O,” laid the foundation for psychoanalysis – the development of which would lead to Freud’s legacy as the “Father of Psychoanalysis” and dream interpretation.
“…here we have another limitation to the effectiveness of analysis; after all, analysis does not set out to make pathological reaction impossible, but to give the patient’s ego freedom to decide one way or the other.”
– from The Ego and the Id by Sigmund Freud
“Psychoanalysis in the hands of the physician is what confession is in the hands of the Catholic priest. It depends on its user and its use, whether it becomes a beneficial tool or a two-edged sword.”
– Bertha Pappenheim (also known as “Anna O”)
Bertha Pappenheim (a.k.a. “Anna O” and “Only A Girl”) was a Jewish Austrian feminist, education organizer, and writer who was born into a wealthy and prestigious family. She was highly educated, cultured, and spoke multiple languages. She was immersed in a variety of cultures throughout her childhood. In her twenties, around the same time that her father became ill, she started experiencing a variety of physical and mental ailments. The ailments became worse after her father’s death. Breuer initially diagnosed her with hysteria (a pretty common diagnosis for women at that time, regardless of how they presented) and started her on a new type of hypnosis therapy. Rather than trying to cure or “correct” her, however, Breuer placed “Anna O” under hypnosis and encouraged her to talk in order to reveal the underlying causes of her symptoms. Breuer believed that the underlying causes were childhood traumas, suppressed memories, and suppressed thoughts. “Anna O’ referred to this therapy as her “talking cure” and it did in fact alleviate some of her symptoms and reduce the intensity of others. (NOTE: She discontinued her therapy with Breuer after accusing him of getting her pregnant; an accusation that is either not mentioned in either of their biographies or dismissed as a symptom of her illness. Later in life, as an educator, Pappenheim would not allow girls in her care to utilize the therapy that had become commonplace.)
By the time Freud (who never met Bertha Pappenheim) started collaborating with Breuer, he had pretty much given up on the possibility of hypnosis being a consistently viable treatment for his patients. Breuer’s method, however, was different and so Freud began to encourage his patients to speak freely about whatever came up in whatever manner it came up. He referred to this stream of consciousness as “free association” and eventually concluded that dreams were the key to the subconscious and repressed memories. His clinical experience evolved into the development of psychoanalysis.
“Neurosis is the inability to tolerate ambiguity.”
– Sigmund Freud
Keep in mind that during the bulk of this work on a new form of treatment, Freud himself was experiencing symptoms that, had he been a woman, would have led to a diagnosis of hysteria. Naturally, he started using his new treatment on himself and ultimately codified a system of symbols and dream interpretation that supported his theories about sexual development and its correlation to maturity; an understanding of “wish fulfillment” and the desires of the ego and super ego; his seduction theory, which explained certain neurosis as the result of repressed sexual trauma and abuse; and postulation of the Oedipus Complex, which he said manifested as “castration anxiety” in men and “penis envy” in women. (NOTE: Freud firmly dismissed Dr. Carl Jung’s discussions of an “Electra complex,” positing that there was one issue experienced by different genders in different ways, as opposed to multiple issues which could be experienced by any gender.)
As I started reading Freud at a tender age, I could go on like this all night… especially since the history is just as interesting as the clinical concepts. But, at some point I need to go to sleep – perchance to dream. And if you ask me if you’re in my dreams, the answer may surprise you. (Or not: after all, a little over half of small business professionals dream about work and the vast majority who dream of work, put those dreams into action when the wake. Keep that in mind next time you think I dreamed up a sequence.)
“Dreams are often most profound when they seem the most crazy.”
– from The Interpretation of Dreams by Sigmund Freud
If you’re curious about what I might “dream up” next, please join me for a 90-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Saturday, May 6th) at 12:00 PM. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Saturday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “05062020 What Dreams May Come”]
Yes! You can still click here to Kiss My Asana Now! (And, you can also still click here to join my team and get people to kiss [your] asana!)
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.)
“Being entirely honest with oneself is a good exercise.”
– from a letter written by Sigmund Freud to Dr. Wilhelm Fleiss, otolaryngologist (dated 10/15/1897)
### SOMETIMES THE APPLE STAYS CLOSE TO THE TREE ###
Sitting, Breathing… in a Room [the “missing” Tuesday post] January 26, 2022
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in "Impossible" People, Abhyasa, Art, Books, Changing Perspectives, Depression, Dharma, Food, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Loss, Movies, Mysticism, One Hoop, Pain, Peace, Philosophy, Suffering, Tragedy, Vairagya, Vipassana, Wisdom, Women, Writing, Yoga.Tags: bandhas, Carl Jung, Dr. Toya Webb, Haţha Yoga Pradipika, Matthew Sanford, Maty Ezraty, MBSR, mental health, Michael Cunningham, Moon Knight, Pancham Sinh, siddhis, The Air I Breathe, trauma, Virginia Woolf
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Warning: This post references to mental health and a person who experienced severe emotional distress.
This is the “missing” post for Tuesday, January 25th. Links in the 4th paragraph of the “Coda” will connect you to other websites. You can request an audio recording of the practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.
Check out the “Class Schedules” calendar for upcoming classes.)
Coda:
Do you ever think about what yoga and Virginia Woolf have in common? No? Just me? Ok, that’s fine; it’s not the first time – and will not be the last time that I make what, on the surface, appears to be a really random connection. It’s not even the first (and probably won’t be the last) time this week. However, in circling back to this practice and this theme, I found myself thinking a little more about mental health and the implications of having space, time, and the other resources to focus, concentrate, contemplate, and meditate.
Last year, this practice fell on Monday, 12521 (making it a palindrome practice). While I waited until the following day to reference Carl Jung’s thoughts on yoga and mental health, those thoughts are always hovering in the back of my mind. And yes, that is the second time this week I’ve mentioned the psychiatrist and psychoanalysis on the blog. However, he and his work have come up at least three times this week. Starting with a conversation I had with my brother.
As some of you know, my youngest brother is one of the coolest people I know. He is cool on a lot of different levels, including being pretty Zen in temperament. But, he doesn’t have a regular practice yoga or meditation practice and he doesn’t really talk about those things with people who do (except me). Over the weekend, he asked me about something he read regarding yoga, meditation, and people who have experienced trauma. Our conversations, as they often do, oscillated between the experiences of real people and the experiences of a certain Marvel comic book character. We talked a little about the emotional ramifications of sitting and breathing… and the things that come up when one is essentially alone with their thoughts. It’s a double-edged sword, as Dr. Jung pointed out – as Patanjali, Vyasa, and other early yoga scribes pointed out. So, we talked about the importance of practicing with care and awareness.
Today there is trauma-sensitive yoga, trauma-informed yoga, MBSR (Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction), HeartMath®, and people who just practice yoga with an awareness that stuff comes up. I mean; we’ve all been through something and when you’ve been through something, stuff comes up. The more intense the trauma-related experience was, the more intense it can be when stuff comes up. Every practice doesn’t work for every person (even Patanjali pointed this out at the beginning of the fourth section of the Yoga Sūtras); but every person needs some way to process what they have experienced – whether they consider it traumatic or not.
Journaling is helpful. Talking to someone is helpful. Connecting with nature is helpful. Sitting and breathing is helpful. You may not need (or want) a “trauma-” label associated with your method of processing, but if you find yourself being overwhelmed by emotion, do something: Ask for help! Maybe a teacher engaged in mindfulness-based practices can help you. Maybe you have a spiritual and/or religious guide who can help you. Maybe you need a mental health professional. Either way, remember that sensation is information; it’s the way the mind-body tells our stories.
Matthew Sanford, the founder of Mind Body Solutions, talks about “healing stories” – the stories we tell ourselves (and each other) to explain our experiences. Those stories are one of the ways we process our stuff. Dr. Toya Webb reminds us that we are “always listening [to the story we tell ourselves] – whether it is destructive or productive.” Maty Ezraty, a master yoga teacher, said that every practice is like a good story.
Consider all of this as you read the following revised version of last year’s post entitled, “Who’s Afraid of Breathing?”
“surājye dhārmike deśe subhikṣhe nirupadrave |
dhanuḥ pramāṇa-paryantaṃ śilāghni-jala-varjite |
ekānte maṭhikā-madhye sthātavyaṃ haṭha-yoghinā || 12 ||
The Yogī should practise [sic] Haṭha Yoga in a small room, situated in a solitary place, being 4 cubits square, and free from stones, fire, water, disturbances of all kinds, and in a country where justice is properly administered, where good people live, and food can be obtained easily and plentifully.”
– quoted from “Chapter 1. On Āsanas” of the Haţha Yoga Pradipika, translated by Pancham Sinh (1914)
“… a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction…”
– quoted from the essay “A Room of One’s Own,” as it appears in A Room of One’s Own And, Three Guineas by Virginia Woolf
In October 1928, Virginia Woolf gave two speeches to two different student societies at Newnham College and Girton College, which at the time were two of the all-women colleges at the University of Cambridge. (NOTE: Newnham is still an all-women’s college. Girton started accepting men in 1971 and started allowing men to be “Mistress,” or head of the college, in 1976.) The speeches were about women and fiction – and specifically detailed why there were so few women writers who had earned acclaimed (and, to certain degree, why those that did often did so anonymously or with “male” names). She also highlighted the absurd trichotomy between the two wildly archetypical way women are portrayed in literature and the reality of the very different types of women in the room, let alone in the world.
Born Virginia Stephen in Kensington, England, Janaury 25, 1882, Ms. Woolf speculated about the works that might have come from a woman (say, in Shakespeare’s time) who had a helpmate to take care of the cooking, cleaning, children, and other household business. She also talked about the social constraints that not only prevented a woman from devoting copious time to the practical application of her craft, writing, but also the social constraints and inequalities that could result in what would amount to writer’s block. All this, she detailed, even before she addressed the issue of a market place predisposed to highlight male writers – and she introduced her ideas by establishing two (really three) of the things a woman would need to overcome the obstacles of society: (time), space, and money.
When I first started going deeper into my physical practice of yoga, I looked into some of the classic texts within the tradition. One of those texts was the Haţha Yoga Pradipika (Light on the Physical Practice of Yoga), a 15th Century text that focuses on āsanas (“seats” or poses), prāņāyāma (breath awareness and control), mudrās (“seals” or “gestures”), and Samādhi (that ultimate form of “meditation” that is absorption). Throughout the text, and in particular in the chapter on mudrās, there is a breakdown of how energy, power, or vitality moves through the body and the benefits of harnessing that power.
I would eventually appreciate how the text is almost a summary of the earlier Yoga Sūtras, but (as an English lit major), what struck me first was how similar these early instructions – related to a practice that can be used to cultivate clarity and harness the power of the mind – were to Virginia Woolf’s advice to women writers.
“athāsane dṝdhe yoghī vaśī hita-mitāśanaḥ |
ghurūpadiṣhṭa-mārgheṇa prāṇāyāmānsamabhyaset || 1 ||
Posture becoming established, a Yogî, master of himself, eating salutary and moderate food, should practise [sic] Prâṇâyâma, as instructed by his guru.”
– quoted from “Chapter 2. On Prāņāyāma” of the Haţha Yoga Pradipika, translated by Pancham Sinh (1914)
“I feel a thousand capacities spring up in me. I am arch, gay, languid, melancholy by turns. I am rooted, but I flow.”
– quoted from “Susan” in The Waves by Virginia Woolf
Just as Virginia Woolf addressed misconceptions about women in her essays and fiction, the translator Pancham Sinh addressed some misconceptions about people who practice yoga and the practice of prāņāyāma in an introduction to the Haţha Yoga Pradipika. Part of the introduction is an admonishment to people who would study the practice, but do not practice it, stating, “People put their faith implicitly in the stories told them about the dangers attending the practice, without ever taking the trouble of ascertaining the fact themselves. We have been inspiring and expiring air from our birth, and will continue to do so till death; and this is done without the help of any teacher. Prāņāyāma is nothing but a properly regulated form of the otherwise irregular and hurried flow of air, without using much force or undue restraint; and if this is accomplished by patiently keeping the flow slow and steady, there can be no danger. It is the impatience for the Siddhis which cause undue pressure on the organs and thereby causes pains in the ears, the eyes, the chest, etc. If the three bandhas be carefully performed while practicing [sic] the Prāņāyāma, there is no possibility of any danger.”
Siddhis are the powers or “accomplishments” achieved from continuous practice. They range from being able to extend peace out into the world and understanding all languages; to being able to levitate and know the inner workings of another’s heart and mind; to the six “powers unique to being human.” Bandhas are “locks” and refer to internal engagements used to seal sections of the body in order to control the flow of prāņā. The three major bandhas referred to in the text are the same engagements I encourage when I tell people to “zip up” and engage the pelvic floor and lower abdominal cavity (mūla bandha), the mid and upper abdominal cavity (uḍḍīyana bandha), and the throat (jālandhara bandha). I typically refer to a fourth – pada bandha – which is a seal for the feet; however, in classical texts the fourth bandha is the engagement of the three major bandhas (root, abdominal, and throat) at the same time.
Before anyone gets it twisted, let’s be clear that this introduction is not advice to grab a book and follow instructions without the guidance of a teacher. In fact, Pancham Sinh specifically advised people to find a teacher who practiced and indicated that while one could follow the directions from a (sacred) book, there are some things that cannot be expressed in words. There are some things that can only be felt.
This is consistent with Patanjali’s explanation that the elements and senses that make up the “objective world” can be “divided into four categories: specific, unspecific, barely describable, and absolutely indescribable.” (YS 2.19) That is to say, there are some things that have specific sense-related reference points; some things that can be referred back to the senses, but only on a personal level; some things that have no reference points, but can be understood through “a sign” or comprehension of sacred text; and some things which cannot be described, because there is no tangible reference point and/or “sign” – there is only essence.
One of the things we can feel, but not touch, is emotion. Emotions can come with visceral experiences and, in that way, can fall into the “unspecific” category. More often than not, however, what we feel is “barely describable” (or even indescribable) – and yet, writers are always trying to describe or capture the essence of what is felt. As the author of nine novels (including one published shortly after her death), five short story collections (most of which were published after her death), a hybrid novel (part fiction, part non-fiction), three book-length essays, a biography, and hundreds of articles, reviews, and essays, Virginia Woolf constantly endeavored to describe what she felt and what she felt she saw others feeling. Even more salient, she often focused on the disconnection between what her characters felt and what they could describe about what they felt.
The author’s efforts were hindered, or aided (depending on one’s viewpoint), by the fact that she experienced so much trauma and heartbreak; much of which led to emotional despair. She was possibly (probably) abused by one of her half-brothers from an early age. Then she suffered a mental breakdown at the age of 13, after her mother died. Then she had to deal with the death of her half-sister and a maternal role model just two years later. When her father he died, in 1904, she had another breakdown, the severity of which landed her in the country for a period of convalescence. It was during this period that she began to write in earnest (even though the doctors had recommended that she only write letters) and that she would meet Leonard Woolf, the author whom she would marry in 1912. The writing helped, in that she seemed to find some mental and emotional stability for about 15 years. But, she would experience another breakdown after correcting the proofs of her first novel, The Voyage Out. The novel was published by her half-brother’s publishing company (yes, that aforementioned half-brother) and introduced the world to “Clarissa Dalloway,” the protagonist of her fourth novel.
“evaṃ vidhe maṭhe sthitvā sarva-chintā-vivarjitaḥ |
ghurūpadiṣhṭa-mārgheṇa yoghameva samabhyaset || 14 ||
Having seated in such a room and free from all anxieties, he should practise [sic] Yoga, as instructed by his guru.”
– quoted from “Chapter 1. On Āsanas” of the Haţha Yoga Pradipika, translated by Pancham Sinh (1914)
“You cannot find peace by avoiding life.”
– quoted from The Hours: a novel by Michael Cunningham
It is interesting to me that while the instruction for the Haţha Yoga Pradipika instructed a person to practice when they were “free from…disturbances of all kinds” (HYP 1.12); “free from dirt, filth and insects” (HYP 1.13); and “free from all anxieties” (HYP 1.14), the vast majority of people practicing in the modern world do so in order to free themselves from the various maladies that plague them. Additionally, I find it interesting that historians, teachers of literature, and even psychiatrists spend a lot of time (theoretically) diagnosing a young woman (Virginia Woolf) who may have been experiencing (and working through) the most natural of emotions; natural, given her circumstances.
Were her emotions extreme and potentially dangerous? Yes, by all accounts – including her own words and her death – her emotions were extreme and dangerous; as were her circumstances. Initially, she was able to work through her distress because she had the support of those to whom she was connected. In the end, however, she was left alone and feeling disconnected.
The Air I Breathe, one of my favorite movies, was released in the United States Janaury 25, 2008. Inspired by the idea that emotions are like fingers on a hand, the main characters are known to the audience as Happiness, Pleasure, Sorrow, Love, and Fingers – and their stories are interconnected, even though they don’t necessarily realize it. In fact, some of the most desperate actions in the movie are motivated by fear and a sense of isolation. Promotional materials for the movie proclaimed, “We are all strangers / We are all living in fear / We are all ready to change” and in the movie Happiness asks, “So where does change come from? And how do we recognize it when it happens?” Happiness also says, “I always wondered, when a butterfly leaves the safety of its cocoon, does it realize how beautiful it has become? or does it still just see itself as a caterpillar? I think both the statement and the questions could be applied to so many, if not all, of Virginia Woolf’s characters. They could also be applied to all of us in the world right now.
“‘For,’ the outsider will say, ‘in fact as a woman, I have no country. As a woman I want no country. As a woman my country is the whole world.’ And if, when reason has had its say, still some obstinate emotion remains, some love of England dropped into a child’s ears… this drop of pure, if irrational, emotion she will make serve her to give to England first what she desires of peace and freedom for the whole world.”
– quoted from the novel-essay “Three Guineas,” as it appears in The Selected Works of Virginia Woolf by Virginia Woolf
As I have mentioned before, I consider the 8-Limbed Yoga Philosophy to have very real-time, practical applications and I normally think of the physical practice as an opportunity to practice, explore, and play with the various elements of the philosophy. I will even sometimes use aspects of alignment as a metaphor for situations in our lives off the mat. Given this last year the last few years, however, I have really started to consider how āsana instructions from classic texts like The Yoga Sūtras of Patanjali and the Haţha Yoga Pradipika, can be more practically applied to the most basic aspects of everyday life.
- For instance, if we spend our time on the mat cultivating a “steady/stable, comfortable/easy/joyful” foundation in order to breathe easier and more deeply, doesn’t it make sense to spend some time cultivating the same type of foundation in our lives?
- Going out a little more, if we do not have the luxury or privilege of practicing “in a country where justice is properly administered, where good people live, and food can be obtained easily and plentifully,” doesn’t it behoove us to create that land?
- Finally, what happens if we (to paraphrase yoga sūtras 2.46-47) establish a baseline for stability and then loosen up a little bit and focus on the infinite? Patanjali and the authors of the other sacred texts told us we would become more of who we are: leaner in body, healthier, brighter, more joyful, “clearer, stronger, and more intuitive.” In other words: peaceful and blissful.
“lōkāḥ samastāḥ sukhinōbhavantu”
– A mettā (loving-kindness) chant that translates to “May all-beings, everywhere, be happy and be free.”
Tuesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.
“vapuḥ kṝśatvaṃ vadane prasannatā
nāda-sphuṭatvaṃ nayane sunirmale |
aroghatā bindu-jayo|aghni-dīpanaṃ
nāḍī-viśuddhirhaṭha-siddhi-lakṣhaṇam || 78 ||
When the body becomes lean, the face glows with delight, Anâhatanâda manifests, and eyes are clear, body is healthy, bindu under control, and appetite increases, then one should know that the Nâdîs are purified and success in Haṭha Yoga is approaching.”
– quoted from “Chapter 1. On Āsanas” of the Haţha Yoga Pradipika, translated by Pancham Sinh (1914)
“The human frame being what it is, heart, body and brain all mixed together, and not contained in separate compartments as they will be no doubt in another million years, a good dinner is of great importance to good talk. One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.”
– quoted from the essay “A Room of One’s Own,” as it appears in A Room of One’s Own And, Three Guineas by Virginia Woolf
If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can call 1-800-273-TALK (8255). You can also call the TALK line if you are struggling with addiction or involved in an abusive relationship. The Lifeline network is free, confidential, and available to all 24/7. YOU CAN TALK ABOUT ANYTHING.
If you are a young person in crisis, feeling suicidal, or in need of a safe and judgement-free place to talk, contact the TrevorLifeline (which is staffed 24/7 with trained counselors).
“Realize that there is freedom in telling your story and that there is power in your words.”
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– quoted from the November 2018 TedxDelthorneWomen talk entitled, “Change Your Perspective and Change Your Story” by Dr. Toya Webb
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### OM SHANTI, SHANTI, SHANTHI OM ###
Doing: Lessons in unexpected, ridiculously inconvenient, unplayable things (& “impossible” people) [the “missing” Sunday post] January 24, 2022
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in "Impossible" People, Abhyasa, Art, Books, California, Changing Perspectives, Depression, Faith, Gratitude, Healing Stories, Health, Hope, Karma, Life, Love, Mantra, Mathematics, Movies, Music, Pain, Peace, Philosophy, Science, Suffering, Tragedy, Vairagya, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: 1990), Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA, avidya, avidyā, Bösendorfer, Carl Jung, Cologne Germany, David Shenk, Dr. Gerald Lynn Early, ECM Records, Ed Roberts, Haratio Walpole, Harry Reasoner, Improv, jazz, Keith Jarrett, Lee Roberts, Manfred Eicher, Miles Davis, neuralplasticity, Pavlov's dog, psychology, samskāras, serendipity, Seth Meyers, svadyaya, synchronicity, Tim Harford, vasanas, Vera Brandes, vāsanās, Zona Roberts
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This is the “missing” post for Sunday, January 23rd (and contains 2-for-1 information related to January 24th). You can request an audio recording of the practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.
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“The causality principle asserts that the connection between cause and effect is a necessary one. The synchronicity principle asserts that the terms of a meaningful coincidence are connected by simultaneity and meaning…. Although meaning is an anthropomorphic interpretation it nevertheless forms the indispensable criterion of synchronicity. What that factor which appears to us as “meaning” may be in itself we have no possibility of knowing. As an hypothesis, however, it is not quite so impossible as may appear at first sight. We must remember that the rationalistic attitude of the West is not the only possible one and is not all-embracing, but is in many ways a prejudice and a bias that ought perhaps to be corrected.”
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– quoted from “3. Forerunners of the Idea of Synchronicity” in Synchronicity: An Acausal Connecting Principle by C. G. Jung
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“This discovery, indeed, is almost of that kind which I call Serendipity, a very expressive word, which, as I have nothing better to tell you, I shall endeavor to explain to you: you will understand it better by the derivation than the definition. I once read a silly fairy tale, called “The Three Princes of Serendip”: as their Highnesses travelled, they were always making discoveries, by accidents and sagacity, of things which they were not in quest of: for instance, one of the them discovered that a mule blind of the right eye had travelled the same road lately, because the grass was eaten only on the left side, where it was worse than on the right….”
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– quoted from a letter addressed to Sir Horace Mann, dated January 28, 1754, by Horace Walpole (The Right Honorable The (4th) Earl of Orford, Horatio Walpole)
Causality, the principles of cause and effect, are a big aspect of the Yoga philosophy – and I am, without a doubt, a big fan. That said, I am also a big fan of synchronicity and serendipity. As much as I pay attention to cause-and-effect, I often delight in things that just seem to “randomly” fall into place and things (or people) that show up when I “need” them, but wasn’t looking for them. Granted, there are times when I consider chaos theory and see if I can trace back to some little thing that started the domino effect; however, I’m also just open to being pleasantly surprised by “accidental goodness.”
Do you know what I mean? Has that happened to you? And how open are you to those kinds of things?
My guess, and it’s not much of a stretch, is that your open-ness, or lack thereof, is based on past experiences. I mean, on a certain level, everything is based on past experiences. We do something new and a new neural pathway is created, a new thin veil of saṃskāra (“mental impression”) is lowered over us. We do that same thing again and we start to hardwire that new neural pathway, the veil becomes more opaque. Over time, our behaviors and reactions become so hardwired, that our saṃskāras becoming vāsanās (“dwellings”) and we believe that our habits are innate or instinctive – when, in fact, they are conditioned.
This is true when things seem to randomly and luckily fall into place. This is also true when are not so fortunate or blessed; when things don’t seem to easily fall into place or when we don’t “randomly” get what we didn’t know we needed. And our physical-mental-emotional response to the so-called “happy accidents” is just as conditioned as our physical-mental-emotional response to things not going our way. We are as much like Pavlov’s dogs as we are like the one-eyed mule observed by the Princes of Serendip. To do something other than salivate at the appearance of certain objects and/or to eat on the other side of the road is “impossible.” But, little changes in the conditioning changes the outcome.
Also, remember that ad about “impossible….”
“Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they’ve been given than to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact. It’s an opinion. Impossible is not a declaration. It’s a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary.
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Impossible is nothing.”
– quoted from a 2004 Adidas ad campaign written by Aimee Lehto (with final tag line credited to Boyd Croyner), often attributed to Muhammad Ali
Sunday’s practice revolved around two stories related to January 23rd and January 24th. They are lessons on doing (rather than not doing) and opportunities for a little svādhyāya (“self-study’). One of the stories was about an “impossible” person who had to deal with unexpected tragedy and “ridiculously inconvenient” situations and expectations. The other was the story of a person, some might consider impossible, who had to deal with an unexpected, ridiculously inconvenient, unplayable piano. As I’ll explain a little (a little later), I encountered both stories serendipitously, but there was also a little bit of synchronicity related to the second story.
Again, I’ll get to the backstory a bit later. For now, consider that the habitual conditioning I mentioned above also applies to our expectations of ourselves and of others. So, when we tell ourselves and/or someone else that something is impossible, it is partially because we have not been conditioned to believe that the thing in question is possible. We haven’t seen any evidence that something can be done and, quite the contrary, maybe we have seen someone else “fail” in their endeavors in the same area. Maybe we ourselves haven’t succeeded… yet; and, therefore have decided to give up.
But, what happens if we don’t give up? What happens if we give our all and then let go of our expectations? What happens if we plan to trust the possibilities and focus on doing what we are able to do, in the present moment?
A version of the January 23rd story was originally posted in 2021. Click here for that philosophical post in it’s entirety.
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“From a practical standpoint then, svadyaya is the process of employing the power of discernment and maintaining a constant awareness of who we are, what we are trying to become, and how the objective world can help us accomplish our goal.”
– commentary on Yoga Sūtra 2.1 from The Practice of the Yoga Sūtra: Sadhana Pada by Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, PhD
The Yoga Sutras offers a detailed explanation of the dysfunctional/afflicted thought patterns that create suffering. Patanjali described those thought patterns as ignorance, the false sense of self, attachment (rooted in pleasure), aversion (which is attachment rooted in pain), and a fear of loss/death. He established ignorance (avidyā) as the root of the other four and stated that this groundwork is established no matter if the ignorance is dormant, attenuated, disjointed, or active. He then broke down the different ways avidyā manifests in the world – which basically goes back to the ways in which we misunderstand the nature of things – and how the other four afflicted thought patterns rise up.
There are examples of how avidyā and the other four dysfunctional/afflicted thought patterns manifest all around us. There are, therefore, also examples of how the sources of our ignorance can be the path towards freedom, fulfillment, and more clarity. One example of this is how some people view those that are not considered “able bodied.” Think about the activist Edward V. Roberts, for example.
“I fell in love, like many people do. We do that as well. And it became ridiculously inconvenient to have my attendant pushing me around in my wheelchair with my girlfriend. It was an extra person that I didn’t need to be more intimate. I learned how to drive a power wheelchair in one day. I was so motivated to learn something that it changed in many ways my perception of my disability and of myself. She jumped on my lap and we rode off into the sunset or to the closest motel.”
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– Ed Roberts (b. 01/23/1939) in a 60 Minutes interview with Harry Reasoner
Known as the “Father of the Independent Living” movement, Mr. Roberts was born January 23,1939. By all accounts, he spent his formative years as a “regular” boy. Then, at the age of fourteen, he contracted polio – this was in 1953, two years before the vaccine ended the polio epidemic. The virus left the active, “sports-loving” teenager paralyzed from the neck down, with mobility only in two fingers and a few toes. It also (temporarily) crushed his spirit. He initially spent most of his days and all of his nights in an 800-pound iron lung. When he wasn’t in the iron lung, he used “frog breathing” – a technique that uses the facial and neck muscles to pump air into the lungs.
Now, if you are someone who has not interacted with someone with a disability, you might think – as Ed Roberts initially thought of himself – that he was a “helpless cripple.” You might, like him and one of his early doctors, back in 1953, think that there was no point to his life. You might think that he couldn’t do yoga; couldn’t get married (and divorced); couldn’t have a child; and definitely couldn’t do anything to change the world. But, if you think any of that – just as he initially thought that – you would be wrong.
“There are very few people even with the most severe disabilities who can’t take control of their own life. The problem is that the people around us don’t expect us to.”
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– Ed Roberts in a 60 Minutes interview with Harry Reasoner
Just to be clear, to my knowledge Ed Roberts didn’t practice yoga. However, he did practice Shotokan karate. Also, it is interesting to note that (a) the glottis (which includes the true vocal chords and the rima glottidis or empty space at the back of the throat) that we engage to practice Ujjayi prāņāyāma, is the same area he would engage to breathe without the iron lung and (b) once he changed his understanding of himself – let go of his “false sense of self” – he was able to change the world.
Even though he could attend school by telephone, Zona Roberts, Ed Roberts’s mother, insisted that he attend school in-person one day a week for a few hours. She also encouraged him to think of himself as a “star” and to advocate for his own needs. So, when he was in danger of not graduating from high school, because he hadn’t completed driver’s education or physical education, he pushed back on those who would limit him.
After graduating from high school, he attended the College of San Mateo and the University of California Berkeley – even though one of the UC Berkeley deans wanted to reject him because someone else had had an unsuccessful bid at college and the dean viewed all people with disabilities as a monolith. At Berkeley, Mr. Roberts pushed to have on-campus housing that would accommodate his needs and, once that was established, pushed the university to admit and provide the dormitory experience to other people with “severe disabilities.” The Cowell Residence Program became a model for universities around the world.
Mr. Roberts and some of the other students in the Cowell Residence Program referred to themselves as the “Rolling Quads.” They were very active in changing people’s perceptions and understandings and, therefore, they were able to change policy and infrastructure. “Curb cuts,” the ramped opening between a sidewalk and street, are one of the changes that resulted from their activism. After Ed Roberts graduated with a Bachelor’s and Master’s in Political Science, he went on to teach at an “alternative college;” to serve as Director of the state organization that had once labeled him too disabled to work; and eventually co-founded the World Institute on Disability (at Berkeley). His activism – including protesting at the San Francisco offices of the Carter Secretary of Health, Education, and Welfare and testifying before Congress – led to the creation of the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA, 1990).
“And I literally went from like 120 pounds to 50 pounds. I also discovered how powerful the mind is, when you make up your mind.”
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– Ed Roberts in a 60 Minutes interview with Harry Reasoner
If I remember correctly, I first dug into Ed Roberts’s story because someone on the internet mentioned him and his birthday. Maybe this was in 2017, when there was a Google Doodle to honor him. Or, maybe I made a note to myself when I saw the Google Doodle and then incorporated it into a class the following year. Either way, I had time to dig in.
Perhaps, since some of my themes are date-related and I do keep an eye out for such things, one might not consider my heightened awareness of Ed Roberts as being overly synchronistic or serendipitous. This is especially true considering that my annual participation in the Kiss My Asana yogathon is one of the many things that predisposes (or conditions) me to pay attention to stories about accessibility. If anything, I could kind of kick myself for not digging into his story sooner.
But, we only know what we know and we don’t know what we don’t know. The odds are pretty high, though, that I would have eventually come across his story. What are the odds, however, that I would encounter the story of Keith Jarrett, Vera Brandes, and the unplayable piano mere days before the anniversary of The Köln Concert, which was performed and recorded on January 24, 1975?
Ok, I know what you’re thinking.
If, like me, someone was creating date-related content, any time someone landed on their media, they’re very likely to come across a timely bit of information. But, what if the content is not date-related? Additionally, what are the odds if the person (in this case me) is late to the proverbial party and just starts randomly picking content? Without even going into the details of my adventures in podcast-listening (or how many I’ve very recently started picking through), let’s just consider the odds of me picking one out of, say, 40 non-date-related episodes and landing on the one that just happens to coincide with an upcoming date.
I have no idea what the odds are, and maybe I haven’t provided enough information, but feel free to comment below if you are a mathematician.
My point is that all of this also happened around the same time that we are all dealing and sometimes battling with change. It happened during a time when the whole world is facing the conflict that can occur when our past and ingrained behaviors, habits, and responses bumps up against the desire for new behaviors, habits, and responses. What are the odds of coming across the historical version of what the comedian Seth Meyers calls, “The Kind of Story We Need Right Now”? What are the odds of coming across the story of a man who did what he considered impossible because of his past experiences, his preconceived notions, and other untenable circumstances?
Keep in mind, this is not only the story of a man who did something he considered “impossible,” it’s also the story of a man who did something that, on a certain level, he didn’t want to do.
You can, as I did, listen to the Cautionary Tales with Tim Harford episode entitled, “Bowie, Jazz and the Unplayable Piano” where ever you get your podcasts. Had I listened to it just a few days sooner, it might have changed the January 8th playlist.
“You always want to make it as good as it can be, but… But when you have problems that you can’t do anything about, one after another, you start forgetting what you’re actually doing, until it’s time. And that’s one of the secrets….”
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– Keith Jarrett in a 2007 interview about his (01/24/1975) Köln Concert
In the 1970’s, 15-year old Vera Brandes started organizing jazz concerts and tours. At around 17, the German teenager started organizing the New Jazz in Cologne concert series. The fifth concert was scheduled for 11:30 PM on January 24, 1975, and it was going to be the first jazz concert at the 1,400-seat Cologne Opera House. The concert would feature a twenty-nine year old jazz pianist named Keith Jarrett, performing improvised solo piano pieces. Yes, that’s right, he was going to make it up as we went along – and the sold out concert would be recorded. (According to last.fm, the tickets were 4 DM [Deutsche Mark] or $5.)
Here’s a few other salient details about the American pianist: He has perfect pitch and garnered some international attention (as a classical pianist) when he was in high school in Pennsylvania. He started playing gigs in Boston while attending Berklee College of Music and moved to New York City after about a year. In the Big Apple, he started making a name for himself, playing with jazz greats like Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers, Jack DeJohnette, and the Charles Lloyd Quartet. By the mid-to-late 1960’s, he was playing and recording with his own trios and that’s around the time that Miles Davis invited him to join his jams (alternating and/or playing with Chick Corea).
Keith Jarrett and his own band of musicians – Charlie Haden, Paul Motian, (eventually) Dewey Redman, and a handful of other similarly accomplished musicians (including Sam Brown) – recorded over a dozen albums for Atlantic Records from 1971 to 1976. In that same time period, one iteration of the quartet recorded an album for Columbia Records; but then the label dropped him – theoretically so they could promote Herbie Hancock. Right around the same time the Columbia-door closed, another two others doors opened: Keith Jarrett and his quartet got a contract with Impulse! Records and he was contacted by Manfred Eicher, a German record producer and co-founder of ECM Records.
ECM stands for “Edition of Contemporary Music” and the label is known for high quality jazz and classic music – and musicians who give the side-eye to labels. It was a great creative dwelling place for musicians like Keith Jarrett and Steve Reich, whose music I have also used in some practices. The professional relationship between Keith Jarrett and Manfred Eicher led to the “European quartet” collaborations, solo piano albums, and, eventually, to that legendary concert in Cologne, Germany.
Here’s another important thing to know about Keith Jarrett: He has a reputation for being very, very particular about concert conditions. He doesn’t like audience distractions, especially when he is improvising, so – at the height of his career – audience members were given cough drops during winter concerts and he would sometimes play in the dark to prevent people from taking pictures. He is known for vocalizing while he plays jazz (but not, notably, when he plays classical music) and reportedly led people in group coughs.
Like other musicians, he is also very particular about the instruments he plays – and this is where we meet “the unplayable piano.”
“KJ: When I was a teenager, my youngest brother had a lot of issues, and didn’t go to school. He couldn’t go outside, so he couldn’t have friends, so he was basically a prisoner in my mother’s house. There was an upright piano there. And occasionally, my brother, knowing zero — meaning really zero — about piano, would work out anger or frustration, which he must have had gobs of, by going to the keyboard and just playing some shit. He didn’t know what notes he was hitting or what would come out. But I realized there were moments that were so good and they came from his ignorance. I’m not sure he even knew they were good moments. But I found myself thinking: how would a pianist ever — how do you approach that if you know the instrument?
DS: How do you find the accidental goodness?”
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– Keith Jarrett in response to David Shenk’s question about having a willingness or eagerness to fail, in “Keith Jarrett, Part II: The Q&A” by David Shenk (published in The Atlantic, October 13, 2009)
Keith Jarrett is known for eschewing electronic instruments and equipment. Obviously, he appreciates the “need” for recording equipment and he has recorded music while playing electronic instruments. But, it’s not his jam – and it’s definitely not the kind of thing he would request for a solo piano concert in an opera house in 1975. No, someone like Keith Jarrett, at that point in his career, for that concert, would request the piano equivalent of a Rolls-Royce. And that’s exactly what he did; he requested a Bösendorfer Model 290 Imperial, also known as the Imperial Bösendorfer or just as the 290.
The 290 is Bösendorfer’s flagship piano. It is an exquisitely beautiful concert grand piano with an equally memorable sound. In fact, it was specifically designed to be grander than any other piano on the market in 1909. And I mean that in every sense of the word grand. It has 97-keys and a full 8-range octave. For 90 years, it was the only concert grand piano of it’s kind. In 1975, it was easily recognizable by any professional pianist… but probably not by random stagehands (who hadn’t had any reason to deal with such a piano) and possibly not by a teenage concert organizer (who also hadn’t had any reason to deal with such a piano).
Keith Jarrett, however, immediately knew that something was off when he arrived at the Cologne Opera House to find a Bösendorfer baby grand on the stage. To make matters worse, he was tired after traveling and not sleeping for two days, his back hurt, and he was suffering from food poisoning. To add insult to injury, the piano was badly out-of-tune and basically broken. Some of the keys and the foot pedals, one of the distinguishing features on the 290, didn’t work properly. It was simply a rehearsal piano or something someone had put in a backstage corner to warm up their hands before the curtain went up. It was too late to find and move a new piano. Even if they could find what had been requested – or something close, like the Bösendorfer (which would have been 5 keys shorter) – it was raining and Vera Brandes was warned that moving such an instrument in that type of weather would make it impossible to tune in time for the concert.
“Don’t play what’s there. Play what’s not there.”
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– Miles Davis
Improvisation – in comedy and in music – is known for things like not breaking the flow (so, not saying “no”); and the concept of “yes, and…;” staying present; and being open to change. But, Keith Jarrett had made up his mind. He said no to that baby grand piano. He declared it categorically “unplayable” and said the concert needed to be canceled. And there’s no indication, anywhere, that he was being a diva. He was just being realistic given his history and his frame of reference. The fact that he was sick and tired just made everything worse.
But the indomitable Vera Brandes had a different history and a different field of possibility. She convinced him that she could find someone to tune (and repair) the piano onstage, which she did. She sent Keith Jarrett and Manfred Eicher to a restaurant to grab a quick bite to eat. In some interviews, Keith Jarrett has said that they didn’t eat much because (a) he wasn’t feeling well, (b) there was a mix-up at the restaurant and their meal was delayed, and (c) they had to get back to the theatre. At some point along the way, they decided to keep the recording engineers – because they were going to get paid no matter what – and record what the musician expected to be a horrible and embarrassing disaster of the first order.
But it wasn’t. It wasn’t not even close.
Instead, the three improvised movements, plus the encore of “Memories of Tomorrow,” became the best selling solo album in jazz history and one of the best-selling piano albums. In the Spring 2019 issue of Daedalus, Dr. Gerald Lyn Early, who has consulted on several Ken Burns documentaries (including Baseball and Jazz), pointed out that Keith Jarrett’s solo concerts changed the sound and people’s understanding of jazz (not to mention, who played it); “…made solo piano playing commercially viable by showing that there was a considerable audience for it[;]” and “…proved that the public was willing to take such records seriously…”
From the very first notes, which sound like the warning tones the audience heard in the lobby before the show, Keith Jarrett carried the audience on a sonorous piano journey unlike anything they had ever heard. The album has been praised by musicians, critics, and publishers alike. It was included in Robert Dimery’s book 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die. Eventually, much to the composers dismay, parts of the composition became movie soundtracks. Many wanted Keith Jarrett to transcribe and publish a score of the concert, which he finally, begrudgingly, agreed to do in 1990. The transcribed score, however, came with a very intentional caveat.
“For instance, on pages 50 and 51 of Part IIa there is no way to obtain, on paper, the real rhythmic sense of this section. There is much more going on on the recording, but this “going on” does not always translate into notes on paper. Many notes are inferred by the rhythmic sense; others depend on the harmonics or attack of the previous note(or notes). So, writing down all the notes would give more of a false view of the sense of this section than selecting some notes. And yet, even this selection cannot reveal the real sense of this section as an improvisation, where listening is what determines the music’s strength.
*
So – we are at, let us say, a picture of an improvisation (sort of like a print of a painting). You cannot see the depth in it, only the surface.
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As a result of all of this, I am recommending that any pianist who intends to play THE KÖLN CONCERT use the recording as the final-word reference.
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Good luck!”
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– quoted from the “Preface” to THE KÖLN CONCERT: Original Transcription, Piano by Keith Jarrett
Sunday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.
[NOTE: If it is accessible to you, please consider using the Spotify playlist as it contains the original music referenced in the practice. Even better, if you already have the album!
The original recording is not available on YouTube (in the US) without a “Premium” membership and, after listening to several different “interpretations” – which do not / cannot include the vocalizations – I decided the Fausto Bongelli sounded the closest to the original. Sadly, one movement is missing and so I used a recording by Tomasz Trzcinkinski, who was the first person to record the music using the transcription. There are also now transcriptions for other instruments – which I didn’t sample, even though I think some of them would be lovely. There are also “covers” using electronic instruments, which I’m considering a hard pass (even if it seems contradictory to the theme), out of respect for the composer. ]
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“My bottom walk-away experience that I believe I carry with me every day is that my father never settled for anything and always fought for everything. And he always, always followed his gut, followed his passion, went with it no matter who was against him, and oftentimes there was more people against him than it was for him.
So I’ve always followed my gut and followed my passion. And in so many different speeches, he would always encourage that person to look within themselves, find their passion, follow it. You can’t… You can’t go wrong with your gut. You can’t go wrong with your passion. Don’t ever settle. He never settled. I’ll never settle. I carry that with me every day, and if there’s anything he loved to pass on, it’s just go for it.”
– quoted from “A Day in the Life of Ed Roberts: Lee Roberts Talks About His Father, Ed Roberts” by Lee Roberts
Errata: This post has been updated to more accurately describe the anatomy related to “frog breathing” and the spelling of Tim Harford’s name has been corrected.
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### My Takeaway: Today is tomorrow’s yesterday. If there’s something in your life – in your field of experience – or something in your past that makes certain things seem impossible, in this present moment, then knowing that – understanding why it seems impossible to you, then pick something. Pick some really small thing that you can start doing – or that you can actually do right now – that changes your history moving forward. So that your field of possibility expands. So that tomorrow – maybe not 24 hours from now, maybe not even 48 hours from now, but at some point, what was impossible becomes possible…. Consider that we are doing things today that were considered impossible “yesterday.” ###
What Dreams May Come (on May 6th) May 6, 2020
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Uncategorized.Tags: Anna O, Bertha Pappenheim, Carl Jung, dream interpretation, dreams, Electra, Josef Breuer, Matthew Sanford, Oedipus, psychoanalysis, rabbits, Sigmund Freud, US movie, yoga
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(“Ramadan Mubarak, Blessed Ramadan!” to anyone who is observing Ramadan. I typically talk about Ramadan at the end of the season, so keep your eyes open.)
“The mind is like an iceberg, it floats with one-seventh of its bulk above water.”
– possibly Sigmund Freud, as quoted in his New York Times obituary (09/24/1939)
“The conscious mind may be compared to a fountain playing in the sun and falling back into the great subterranean pool of subconscious from which it rises.”
– Sigmund Freud, as quoted in his New York Times obituary (09/24/1939)
“The interpretation of dreams is the royal road to knowledge of the unconscious activities of the mind.”
– from The Interpretation of Dreams by Sigmund Freud
Let’s talk about our dreams. During this pandemic, some people have mentioned having particularly wild dreams – even when they weren’t sick. People have also talked about either remembering or not remembering their dreams, but in the opposite way than what is normal for them. I recently dreamed there was a brown rabbit sitting at the foot of my bed. It wasn’t doing anything; just hopped up and sat there for a bit. Not touching me, or biting me – not even really looking at me or wiggling its nose – just sitting there.
Prior to seeing the movie US, a dream like that would have had me running to search for Freud’s take on the symbolism of rabbits. Rather than going down that particular (and surprising) rabbit hole, let’s just stick with the work and the history.
Born today (May 6th) in 1856, Dr. Sigmund Freud was a neurologist who studied researched cerebral paralysis or cerebral palsy, as it is known today. In an attempt to better understand the workings of the brain, Freud collaborated with Dr. Josef Breuer, a physician who utilized a type of hypnosis very different from what Freud had previously studied. Breuer’s work, especially with a patient referred to as “Anna O,” laid the foundation for psychoanalysis – the development of which would lead to Freud’s legacy as the “Father of Psychoanalysis” and dream interpretation.
“…here we have another limitation to the effectiveness of analysis; after all, analysis does not set out to make pathological reaction impossible, but to give the patient’s ego freedom to decide one way or the other.”
– from The Ego and the Id by Sigmund Freud
“Psychoanalysis in the hands of the physician is what confession is in the hands of the Catholic priest. It depends on its user and its use, whether it becomes a beneficial tool or a two-edged sword.”
– Bertha Pappenheim (also known as “Anna O”)
Bertha Pappenheim (a.k.a. “Anna O” and “Only A Girl”) was a Jewish Austrian feminist, education organizer, and writer who was born into a wealthy and prestigious family. She was highly educated, cultured, and spoke multiple languages. She was immersed in a variety of cultures throughout her childhood. In her twenties, around the same time that her father became ill, she started experiencing a variety of physical and mental ailments. The ailments became worse after her father’s death. Breuer initially diagnosed her with hysteria (a pretty common diagnosis for women at that time, regardless of how they presented) and started her on a new type of hypnosis therapy. Rather than trying to cure or “correct” her, however, Breuer placed “Anna O” under hypnosis and encouraged her to talk in order to reveal the underlying causes of her symptoms. Breuer believed that the underlying causes were childhood traumas, suppressed memories, and suppressed thoughts. “Anna O’ referred to this therapy as her “talking cure” and it did in fact alleviate some of her symptoms and reduce the intensity of others. (NOTE: She discontinued her therapy with Breuer after accusing him of getting her pregnant; an accusation that is either not mentioned in either of their biographies or dismissed as a symptom of her illness. Later in life, as an educator, Pappenheim would not allow girls in her care to utilize the therapy that had become commonplace.)
By the time Freud (who never met Bertha Pappenheim) started collaborating with Breuer, he had pretty much given up on the possibility of hypnosis being a consistently viable treatment for his patients. Breuer’s method, however, was different and so Freud began to encourage his patients to speak freely about whatever came up in whatever manner it came up. He referred to this stream of consciousness as “free association” and eventually concluded that dreams were the key to the subconscious and repressed memories. His clinical experience evolved into the development of psychoanalysis.
“Neurosis is the inability to tolerate ambiguity.”
– Sigmund Freud
Keep in mind that during the bulk of this work on a new form of treatment, Freud himself was experiencing symptoms that, had he been a woman, would have led to a diagnosis of hysteria. Naturally, he started using his new treatment on himself and ultimately codified a system of symbols and dream interpretation that supported his theories about sexual development and its correlation to maturity; an understanding of “wish fulfillment” and the desires of the ego and super ego; his seduction theory, which explained certain neurosis as the result of repressed sexual trauma and abuse; and postulation of the Oedipus Complex, which he said manifested as “castration anxiety” in men and “penis envy” in women. (NOTE: Freud firmly dismissed Dr. Carl Jung’s discussions of an “Electra complex,” positing that there was one issue experienced by different genders in different ways, as opposed to multiple issues which could be experienced by any gender.)
As I started reading Freud at a tender age, I could go on like this all night… especially since the history is just as interesting as the clinical concepts. But, at some point I need to go to sleep – perchance to dream. And if you ask me if you’re in my dreams, the answer may surprise you. (Or not: after all, a little over half of small business professionals dream about work and the vast majority who dream of work, put those dreams into action when the wake. Keep that in mind next time you think I dreamed up a sequence.)
“Dreams are often most profound when they seem the most crazy.”
– from The Interpretation of Dreams by Sigmund Freud
If you’re curious about what I might “dream up” next, feel free to join me for a virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Wednesday, May 6th) at 4:30 PM or 7:15 PM. Please use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You will need to register for the 7:15 PM class if you have not already done so. Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.
Kiss My Asana, the yogathon that benefits Mind Body Solutions and their adaptive yoga program is officially over. But, I still owe you two posts and you can still do yoga, share yoga, help others by donating to my KMA campaign.
You can also check out the all-humanity, Kick-Off gathering featuring insights from MBS founder Matthew Sanford, conversation with MBS students, and a mind-body practice for all. If you’re not familiar with MBS, this will give you a glimpse into the work, the people, and the humanity of the adaptive yoga program which I am helping to raise $50K of essential support.
“Being entirely honest with oneself is a good exercise.”
– from a letter written by Sigmund Freud to Dr. Wilhelm Fleiss, otolaryngologist (dated 10/15/1897)
### SOMETIMES THE APPLE STAYS CLOSE TO THE TREE ###
A Joyful Practice 