Tempo por vi Brili, en 2025! “Time for you to Shine, in 2025!” & FTWMI: Gravas kiel ni diras, aŭ ne diras, kio estas en niaj koroj! “How we say, or don’t say, what is in our hearts is important!” (the “missing” Monday 12/15 post) December 20, 2025
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Books, Changing Perspectives, Chanukah, Food, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Music, One Hoop, Pain, Peace, Philosophy, Poetry, Religion, Suffering, Tragedy, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: 988, Abba, Algerina Peckover, Beresh't, Chanukah, culture, David Gaines, Dr. L. L. Zamenhof, education, Esperanto, Genesis, Genezo, Hillel the Elder, history, Hugo Nomi, language, Leonard Cohen, Londona Biblio, Manno Mantanna, Marjorie Boulton, New Year's Day, Noah Webster, Priscilla Hannah Peckover, Webster's 1828, Writing, yoga, Zamenhof Day, Zamenhof-tagon
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“Feliĉan Zamenhof-tagon!” “Feliĉan Ĥanukoan!” “Feliĉan Feriojn!” (“Happy Zamenhof Day!” “Happy Chanukah!” “Happy Holidays!”) Many blessings to everyone and especially to anyone sustaining kindness, friendship, peace, freedom, understanding, gratitude, and wisdom during Advent and the Nativity / St. Philip’s Fast.
May you be safe and protected / May you be peaceful and happy / May you be healthy and strong! May you be nourished!
This is the “missing” post-practice post for Monday, December 15th. It includes new and re-posted content. The 2025 prompt question was, “For what or for whom are you holding space?” The 2025 BONUS question was, “What is something from your culture you would like to share with others?” You can request an audio recording of this practice or a previous practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es).
Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.
Check out the “Class Schedules” calendar for upcoming classes.
“Kaj Dio diris: Estu lumo; kaj fariĝis lumo.”
— Genezo – Bereishit – Genesis (1:3), quoted from La Sankta Biblio 1926 (Esperanto Londona Biblio), translated by L. L. Zamenhof1 [Most commonly translated into English as “And God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light.” Transliteration of the Hebrew is “And God said, ‘Light will be,’ and light was.”]
The “bonus question” (above) came at the end of Monday night’s practice, because I think it’s a question that requires a little more thought than the few seconds I offer at the beginning of the practice. Of course, there are always questions I consider — and hope others consider — long after the practice. Some are even questions that, perhaps, we haven’t given much thought to before they are asked — like the questions about culture that have been popping up around me.
You may have also heard these conversations about culture over the last few weeks (or years) and you may or may not have noticed how little we think about culture if we are not studying it. Culture, however, is very much at the heart of story of Chanukah (which started at sunset on Sunday night this year) and Zamenhof Day (which is celebrated annually on December 15th).
“Lundo estis la unua tago kaj dua nokto de Ĥanuka — kaj mi deziras al vi pacon en Esperanto.”
— “Monday was the first day and second night of Chanukah — and I’m wishing you peace in Esperanto.”
For Those Who Missed It: The following was originally posted in 2021 and updated in 2024.
“La okulisto skribis post noktmezo.
Kiam la homa gefrataro pacos?
Kia mistera manko, kia lezo
duonblindigas? Kiu ĝin kuracos?
Kaj kion povas fari unuopa
malriĉa homo por homar’ miopa?”
“The ophthalmologist wrote after midnight.
When will the human brotherhood be at peace?
What a mysterious lack, what an injury
half blind? Who will cure it?
And what can be done individually
poor man for myopic humanity?”
— quoted (in Esperanto and English) from the poem “La Okulisto” (“The Ophthalmologist”) in Eroj (Items) by Marjorie Boulton
What does culture mean to you? Specifically, what does your culture mean to you? And, when I speak of “your culture,” do you think of how you identify yourself or how others identify you (even if certain things don’t apply to you)? Do you think of something specific and personal to you or something related to the dominant culture around you? Of course, it could be all of the above — because, let’s be real, most of us live bi-cultural (or multi-cultural) lives. Most of us exist in a place where cultures overlap. We move in and out of corporate and other institutional cultures — including school and religious cultures – as well as the cultures of our people and our nations or states.
But, again, what do I mean by culture?
Modern dictionaries include the following definitions (for the noun):
- the arts and other manifestations of human intellectual achievement regarded collectively.
- the customs, arts, social institutions, and achievements of a particular nation, people, or other social group.
-
the cultivation of bacteria, tissue cells, etc. in an artificial medium containing nutrients.
- the cultivation of plants.
Noah Webster’s (intentionally American) 1828 dictionary focuses on the word as it’s related to agriculture and physical labor, with the second definition highlighting that it can be “The application of labor or other means to improve good qualities in, or growth; as the culture of the mind; the culture of virtue.”
So, culture could be work intended to improve what it means to be a good human. Got it. Except…it still doesn’t completely answer the question. It also doesn’t explain why “culture” seems to create so much conflict.
“La okulisto verkis kaj parolis,
tradukis, organizis. Kaj la skvamoj
de kelkaj okulparoj jam forfalis,
la antaŭjuĝoj, timoj kaj malamoj.”
“The ophthalmologist wrote and spoke,
translated, organized. And the scales [of]
some eyes have already fallen off,
the prejudices, fears and hatreds.”
— quoted (in Esperanto and English) from the poem “La Okulisto” (“The Ophthalmologist”) in Eroj (Items) by Marjorie Boulton
When most people think about “culture,” they think about behavior. They think about rituals, traditions, laws, expectations, and belief systems. They think about celebrations and the way people mark milestones. They think about clothes, music, and food. All the things that might seem strange to an outsider (or even an insider who has forgotten, or never learned, the underlying meanings of their customs). Focusing on that sense of strangeness can become a form avidyā (“ignorance”) that leads to suffering.
When we focus on the strangeness of something (or someone) we sometimes miss the things we have in common. When we miss our commonalities, we may all miss out on the opportunity to appreciate what makes us unique. That’s one of the reasons it’s so important to share experiences. Shared experiences can become part of our culture and part of our cultural understanding. For instance, when we break bread with people — especially people we view as (culturally) different from us — we gain some awareness and appreciation of the things we have in common. As David Chang has pointed out in his Netflix series Ugly Delicious, every culture has some kind of dumpling… stir fry… casserole (even if they call it hot dish). People from different cultures may even use similar spices, just in different ways. Or, maybe we just call the spice something different.
Which brings me to one aspect of culture that I left out: language (and how we think, based on the language we use).
Many of the world’s languages share roots. However, those shared roots are not on the mind of the average person when they encounter a language that is foreign to them. If someone doesn’t speak a certain language, they may not take the time to figure out what they can understand based on what they know about their own language. They may not consider that their brain actually has the ability to glean some meaning, based on context, because it’s been cultured (i.e., cultivated). In doing so, they may miss out on the opportunity to make a friend or clear up a misunderstanding.
The following was originally part of a post from December 15, 2020. You can read the original context here.
“Tio, kio malamas vin, ne faru al via ulo. Tio estas la tuta Torao; la resto estas la klarigo. Nun iru studi.”
“That which is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow. That is the whole Torah; the rest is the explanation. Now go and study.”
— quoted from the story of Hillel the Elder “[teaching] the meaning of the whole Torah while standing on one foot,” in Esperanto and in English
Because it is Zamenhof-tagon (Zamenhof Day), mi deziras al vi pacon en Esperanto. (I wish you peace in Esperanto.)
Born December 15, 1859, in a part of the Russian Empire that is now Poland, Dr. L. L. Zamenhof was a Polish-Jewish ophthalmologist and polyglot. He was born into a Lithuanian-Jewish family that spoke Russian and Yiddish, but his father taught German and French — so he learned those languages, as well as Polish, at a young age. Eventually, he would also master German; have a good understanding of Latin, Hebrew, French, and Belarusian; and basic knowledge of Greek, English, Italian, Lithuanian, and Aramaic. At some point, he also studied Volapük, a constructed language created by Johann Martin Schleyer (a German Catholic priest).
The diverse population in his hometown and his love of language exposed Dr. Zamenhof to different cultures and also to the schisms (and wars) that developed between cultures. He imagined what the world would be like without conflict, especially conflict that arose from misunderstandings that he saw were the result of miscommunication. He thought that if people could more easily understand each other they would have a better chance of avoiding and/or resolving conflict. In 1873, while he was still a schoolboy, the future eye doctor started developing Esperanto, a constructed language that he called “Lingvo internacia” (“international language”).
Dr. Zamenhof continued his work even as he studied medicine and began working as a doctor. Eventually, he self-published his work (with a little help from his then future father-in-law) under the pseudonym “Doktoro Esperanto” or Doctor Hopeful. He continued to write and translate grammar books in various languages, including Esperanto, and also to look for solutions to oppression and nationalism. He explored various religions and social movements — he even wrote about humanitarianism or humanism (“homaranismo” in Esperanto), based on the teachings of Hillel the Elder. But, he kept coming back to the concept of language as a unifier.
Promoting the language and the idea behind the language would be Dr. Zamenhof’s legacy — a legacy that lived on through his wife (Klara) and their children. Even though the Zamenhof children, as adults, were killed during the Holocaust, along with millions of others, the language lived on. There are currently at least a thousand native speakers of Esperanto, worldwide, and millions who have some working knowledge of the language.
Ni ne estas tiel naivaj, kiel pensas pri ni kelkaj personoj; ni ne kredas, ke neŭtrala fundamento faros el la homoj anĝelojn; ni scias tre bone, ke la homoj malbonaj ankaŭ poste restos malbonaj; sed ni kredas, ke komunikiĝado kaj konatiĝado sur neŭtrala fundamento forigos almenaŭ la grandan amason de tiuj bestaĵoj kaj krimoj, kiuj estas kaŭzataj ne de malbona volo, sed simple de sinnekonado kaj de devigata sinaltrudado.”
“We are not as naive as some people think of us; we do not believe that a neutral foundation will make men angels; we know very well that bad people will stay bad even later; but we believe that communication and acquaintance based on a neutral basis will remove at least the great mass of those beasts and crimes which are caused not by ill will, but simply by [misunderstandings and forced coercion.]”
— quoted from a speech by Dr. L. L. Zamenhof to the Second World Congress of Esperanto, August 27, 1906
There is no playlist for the Common Ground Meditation Center practices.
An Esperanto-inspired playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “12152021 Feliĉan Zamenhof-tagon!”]
Esperanto music can be found in a lot of different genres, including folk music, rap, reggae, rock, rap, and orchestral music. This playlist features music by David Gaines, an American classical composer and Esperantist. He has served on the advisory board of the Esperantic Studies Foundation; is the Honorary President of the Music Esperanto League; and “won First Prize at the 1995 World Esperanto Association’s Belartaj Konkursoj (competitions in the field of Belles lettres).” His work incorporates Esperanto poetry and the quest for peace.
Eta regaleto (A little treat) on the YouTube playlist.
https://youtu.be/W8WVKE8OZeI?si=kaSsdfb9SAZeX6VX
If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can dial 988 (in the US) or call 1-800-273-TALK (8255) for the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. You can also call this TALK line if you are struggling with addiction or involved in an abusive relationship. The Lifeline network is free, confidential, and available to all 24/7. YOU CAN TALK ABOUT ANYTHING.
White Flag is an app, which I have not yet researched, but which may be helpful if you need peer-to-peer (non-professional) support.
If you are a young person in crisis, feeling suicidal, or in need of a safe and judgement-free place to talk, you can also click here to contact the TrevorLifeline (which is staffed 24/7 with trained counselors).
NOTE: 1Dr. L. L. Zamenhof completed his translation of the Hebrew Bible (Masoretic Text) in March 1915; however, publication was delayed because of World War I and Dr. Zamenhof ’s death in 1917. Priscilla Hannah Peckover and Algerina Peckover, two English Quaker sisters, financed the publication of the 1926 (Esperanto) Londona Biblio, which combined Dr. Zamenhof’s translation of the (Christian) Old Testament with a revised version of the (Christian) New Testament, previously translated by a British team of scholars (in 1910, published in 1912).
I will offering in-person classes during January 2026. Click here for more details and to reserve your spots now. Let’s start the 2026 together!
### pacon / peace ###
FTWMI: Gravas kiel ni diras, aŭ ne diras, kio estas en niaj koroj! “How we say, or don’t say, what is in our hearts is important!” December 15, 2024
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Books, Changing Perspectives, Food, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Music, One Hoop, Pain, Peace, Philosophy, Poetry, Suffering, Tragedy, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: 988, Abba, culture, David Gaines, Dr. L. L. Zamenhof, Esperanto, Hillel the Elder, Hugo Nomi, Leonard Cohen, Manno Mantanna, Marjorie Boulton, New Year's Day, Noah Webster, Webster's 1828, yoga, Zamenhof Day, Zamenhof-tagon
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“Feliĉan Zamenhof-tagon!” “Feliĉan Feriojn!” (“Happy Zamenhoff Day!” “Happy Holidays!”) Many blessings to everyone and especially to anyone sustaining kindness, friendship, peace, freedom, understanding, gratitude, and wisdom.
May you be safe and protected / May you be peaceful and happy / May you be healthy and strong! May you be nourished!
For Those Who Missed It: The following was originally posted in 2021. Some formatting, links, and class details have been updated or added.
“La okulisto skribis post noktmezo.
Kiam la homa gefrataro pacos?
Kia mistera manko, kia lezo
duonblindigas? Kiu ĝin kuracos?
Kaj kion povas fari unuopa
malriĉa homo por homar’ miopa?”
“The ophthalmologist wrote after midnight.
When will the human brotherhood be at peace?
What a mysterious lack, what an injury
half blind? Who will cure it?
And what can be done individually
poor man for myopic humanity?”
— quoted (in Esperanto and English) from the poem “La Okulisto” (“The Ophthalmologist”) in Eroj (Items) by Marjorie Boulton
What does culture mean to you? Specifically, what does your culture mean to you? And, when I speak of “your culture,” do you think of how you identify yourself or how others identify you (even if certain things don’t apply to you)? Do you think of something specific and personal to you or something related to the dominant culture around you? Of course, it could be all of the above — because, let’s be real, most of us live bi-cultural (or multi-cultural) lives. Most of us exist in a place where cultures overlap. We move in and out of corporate and other institutional cultures — including school and religious cultures – as well as the cultures of our people and our nations or states.
But, again, what do I mean by culture?
Modern dictionaries include the following definitions (for the noun):
- the arts and other manifestations of human intellectual achievement regarded collectively.
- the customs, arts, social institutions, and achievements of a particular nation, people, or other social group.
-
the cultivation of bacteria, tissue cells, etc. in an artificial medium containing nutrients.
- the cultivation of plants.
Noah Webster’s (intentionally American) 1828 dictionary focuses on the word as it’s related to agriculture and physical labor, with the second definition highlighting that it can be “The application of labor or other means to improve good qualities in, or growth; as the culture of the mind; the culture of virtue.”
So, culture could be work intended to improve what it means to be a good human. Got it. Except…it still doesn’t completely answer the question. It also doesn’t explain why “culture” seems to create so much conflict.
“La okulisto verkis kaj parolis,
tradukis, organizis. Kaj la skvamoj
de kelkaj okulparoj jam forfalis,
la antaŭjuĝoj, timoj kaj malamoj.”
“The ophthalmologist wrote and spoke,
translated, organized. And the scales [of]
some eyes have already fallen off,
the prejudices, fears and hatreds.”
— quoted (in Esperanto and English) from the poem “La Okulisto” (“The Ophthalmologist”) in Eroj (Items) by Marjorie Boulton
When most people think about “culture,” they think about behavior. They think about rituals, traditions, laws, expectations, and belief systems. They think about celebrations and the way people mark milestones. They think about clothes, music, and food. All the things that might seem strange to an outsider (or even an insider who has forgotten, or never learned, the underlying meanings of their customs). Focusing on that sense of strangeness can become a form avidyā (“ignorance”) that leads to suffering.
When we focus on the strangeness of something (or someone) we sometimes miss the things we have in common. When we miss our commonalities, we may all miss out on the opportunity to appreciate what makes us unique. That’s one of the reasons it’s so important to share experiences. Shared experiences can become part of our culture and part of our cultural understanding. For instance, when we break bread with people — especially people we view as (culturally) different from us — we gain some awareness and appreciation of the things we have in common. As David Chang has pointed out in his Netflix series Ugly Delicious, every culture has some kind of dumpling… stir fry… casserole (even if they call it hot dish). People from different cultures may even use similar spices, just in different ways. Or, maybe we just call the spice something different.
Which brings me to one aspect of culture that I left out: language (and how we think, based on the language we use).
Many of the world’s languages share roots. However, those shared roots are not on the mind of the average person when they encounter a language that is foreign to them. If someone doesn’t speak a certain language, they may not take the time to figure out what they can understand based on what they know about their own language. They may not consider that their brain actually has the ability to glean some meaning, based on context, because it’s been cultured (i.e., cultivated). In doing so, they may miss out on the opportunity to make a friend or clear up a misunderstanding.
The following was originally part of a post from December 15, 2020. You can read the original context here.
“Tio, kio malamas vin, ne faru al via ulo. Tio estas la tuta Torao; la resto estas la klarigo. Nun iru studi.”
“That which is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow. That is the whole Torah; the rest is the explanation. Now go and study.”
— quoted from the story of Hillel the Elder “[teaching] the meaning of the whole Torah while standing on one foot,” in Esperanto and in English
Because it is Zamenhof-tagon (Zamenhoff Day), mi deziras al vi pacon en Esperanto. (I wish you peace in Esperanto.)
Born December 15, 1859, in a part of the Russian Empire that is now Poland, Dr. L. L. Zamenhof was a Polish-Jewish ophthalmologist and polyglot. He was born into a Lithuanian-Jewish family that spoke Russian and Yiddish, but his father taught German and French — so he learned those languages, as well as Polish, at a young age. Eventually, he would also master German; have a good understanding of Latin, Hebrew, French, and Belarusian; and basic knowledge of Greek, English, Italian, Lithuanian, and Aramaic. At some point, he also studied Volapük, a constructed language created by Johann Martin Schleyer (a German Catholic priest).
The diverse population in his hometown and his love of language exposed Dr. Zamenhof to different cultures and also to the schisms (and wars) that developed between cultures. He imagined what the world would be like without conflict, especially conflict that arose from misunderstandings that he saw were the result of miscommunication. He thought that if people could more easily understand each other they would have a better chance of avoiding and/or resolving conflict. In 1873, while he was still a schoolboy, the future eye doctor started developing Esperanto, a constructed language that he called “Lingvo internacia” (“international language”).
Dr. Zamenhof continued his work even as he studied medicine and began working as a doctor. Eventually, he self-published his work (with a little help from his then future father-in-law) under the pseudonym “Doktoro Esperanto” or Doctor Hopeful. He continued to write and translate grammar books in various languages, including Esperanto, and also to look for solutions to oppression and nationalism. He explored various religions and social movements — he even wrote about humanitarianism or humanism (“homaranismo” in Esperanto), based on the teachings of Hillel the Elder. But, he kept coming back to the concept of language as a unifier.
Promoting the language and the idea behind the language would be Dr. Zamenhof’s legacy — a legacy that lived on through his wife (Klara) and their children. Even though the Zamenhof children, as adults, were killed during the Holocaust, along with millions of others, the language lived on. There are currently at least a thousand native speakers of Esperanto, worldwide, and millions who have some working knowledge of the language.
Ni ne estas tiel naivaj, kiel pensas pri ni kelkaj personoj; ni ne kredas, ke neŭtrala fundamento faros el la homoj anĝelojn; ni scias tre bone, ke la homoj malbonaj ankaŭ poste restos malbonaj; sed ni kredas, ke komunikiĝado kaj konatiĝado sur neŭtrala fundamento forigos almenaŭ la grandan amason de tiuj bestaĵoj kaj krimoj, kiuj estas kaŭzataj ne de malbona volo, sed simple de sinnekonado kaj de devigata sinaltrudado.”
“We are not as naive as some people think of us; we do not believe that a neutral foundation will make men angels; we know very well that bad people will stay bad even later; but we believe that communication and acquaintance based on a neutral basis will remove at least the great mass of those beasts and crimes which are caused not by ill will, but simply by [misunderstandings and forced coercion.]”
— quoted from a speech by Dr. L. L. Zamenhof to the Second World Congress of Esperanto, August 27, 1906
Please join me for a 65-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Sunday, December 15th) at 2:30 PM. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Sunday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “12152021 Feliĉan Zamenhof-tagon!”]
Esperanto music can be found in a lot of different genres, including folk music, rap, reggae, rock, rap, and orchestral music. This playlist features music by David Gaines, an American classical composer and Esperantist. He has served on the advisory board of the Esperantic Studies Foundation; is the Honorary President of the Music Esperanto League; and “won First Prize at the 1995 World Esperanto Association’s Belartaj Konkursoj (competitions in the field of Belles lettres).” His work incorporates Esperanto poetry and the quest for peace.
Eta regaleto (A little treat) on the YouTube playlist.
If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can dial 988 (in the US) or call 1-800-273-TALK (8255) for the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. You can also call this TALK line if you are struggling with addiction or involved in an abusive relationship. The Lifeline network is free, confidential, and available to all 24/7. YOU CAN TALK ABOUT ANYTHING.
White Flag is a new app, which I have not yet researched, but which may be helpful if you need peer-to-peer (non-professional) support.
If you are a young person in crisis, feeling suicidal, or in need of a safe and judgement-free place to talk, you can also click here to contact the TrevorLifeline (which is staffed 24/7 with trained counselors).
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es).
Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.
Check out the “Class Schedules” calendar for upcoming classes.
I will offering in-person classes during January 2025. Click here for more details and to reserve your spots now. Let’s start the 2025 together!
### pacon / peace ###
Love/Respect & FTWMI: The JOyG of Being (the “missing” Tuesday post) May 9, 2023
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Books, Changing Perspectives, Dharma, Donate, Faith, Gratitude, Healing Stories, Hope, Karma Yoga, Life, Loss, Love, Meditation, Music, Mysticism, One Hoop, Pain, Philosophy, Religion, Science, Shavuot, Suffering, Tragedy, Volunteer, Wisdom, Women, Yoga.Tags: Bob P, Counting the Omer, Dr. L. L. Zamenhof, Hillel the Elder, Hod, José Ortega y Gasset, Jose Ortega y Gasset, L. L. Zamenhof, Lag B'Omer, Lag LaOmer, Netzach, Rabbi Adin Even-Israel Steinsaltz, Rabbi Akiva, Rabbi Shammai, Royal Wood, Talmud, William Davidson, Yevamot, yoga sutra 2.18, Yoga Sutra 2.19
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Many blessings to everyone, and especially to anyone Counting the Omer (Lag B’Omer or Lag LaOmer)!
This is a “missing” post for Tuesday, May 9th. You can request an audio recording of this 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).
For just a few more days you can still click here to Kiss My Asana Now! (Or, you can also click here to join my team and get people to kiss [your] asana!)
Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.Check out the “Class Schedules” calendar for upcoming classes.)
“Tio, kio malamas vin, ne faru al via ulo. Tio estas la tuta Torao; la resto estas la klarigo. Nun iru studi.”
“That which is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow. That is the whole Torah; the rest is the explanation. Now go and study.”
– quoted from the story of Hillel the Elder “[teaching] the meaning of the whole Torah while standing on one foot,” translated into Esperanto and English by Dr. L. L. Zamenhof
It is not the point of the story – and, in some ways it doesn’t matter – however, today I am wondering “Which foot?”
According to the Talmud a potential convert to Judaism went to two famous rabbis of the 1st century and asked to be taught the whole Torah while standing on one foot.* Rabbi Shammai insulted the man and threw him out. Rabbi Hillel (the Elder) taught a lesson about respect, which some commentators say is also love.
Respect/love that’s the important part of the story. However, today, I am also wondering about which foot. Because, which foot determines which leg and which hip bear the weight of the lesson – and which leg and hip, represents the (symbolic) foundation of the teaching.
“Yes, how my love this moment here is ripe for us
Yes, you and I so brave against the years
If nothing’s left to live we must find a way
There’s reason yet to live
There’s something left to give
We must find a way
There is so much to give”
– quoted from “When Nothing’s Left” by Royal Wood
As I often mention this time of year, Jewish mysticism (Kabbalah) indicates that the Tree of Life has ten sefirot (“emanations,” attributes, or manifestations) of the Divine – seven of which are associated with the body. For instance, the right leg/thigh is associated with the fourth attribute, Netzach, meaning “endurance,” “sustainability,” “victory,” and “persistence.” Meanwhile, the left leg/thigh is associated with Hod, which can be defined as “humility,” “gratitude,” “splendor,” and “glory.” I often reference this in relation to the Counting of the Omer, a 7-week period of prayer and reflection which begins on the second night of Passover. Each night, for 49 days, people count the days of the Omer and reflect on a combination of two of the sefirot.
We’re heading towards the end of the fifth week; and so, the focus is on how each attribute – lovingkindness, strength, balance, endurance, humility, bonding, and stewardship – shows up in relation to Hod. Sunset on Monday marked the beginning of Lag B’Omer (or Lag LaOmer) – Day 33 of (or in) the Omer, which is Hod She’b’Hod. The 33rd day has an extra special significance and is treated differently from the other days. The reason it’s different is related to hope – gained, lost, and regained – and, also, to that first lesson regarding respect/love.
“They said by way of example that Rabbi Akiva had twelve thousand pairs of students in an area of land that stretched from Gevat to Antipatris in Judea, and they all died in one period of time, because they did not treat each other with respect.”
– quoted from Yevamot 62b:9 in The Koren Talmud Bavli Noé (Vol. 14 Yevamot 1), with commentary by Rabbi Adin Even-Israel Steinsaltz and English from The William Davidson digital edition
I often refer to Counting the Omer as a preparation ritual, similar to other observations and celebrations that fit within the rubric of kriya yoga. What I don’t often mention is that the beginning of the 7 weeks is also a period of mourning related to Rabbi Akiva’s 24,000 students and the lost hope that their deaths represent. Obviously, so many people being lost at once would be devastating and heartbreaking. However, the communal hopelessness is also related to the fact that the 24,000 were preparing for the return of the Temple.
Yet, somehow, despite focusing on the scholarly aspects of their faith, they got it wrong.
How? How could so many students of Torah not respect/love one another properly? How could so many students of one of the greatest rabbis not understand a foundational element of their teaching? According to some commentary, they did not love those that had different opinions and perspectives. Rather than learning from one another, they believed they could only respect/love those who shared the same views. So the were struck down by a plague.
Some scholars say the plague that killed them was an actual disease (as it is indicated in the text); others say it was a metaphor for war against the Roman Empire. Either way, Lag B’Omer (or Lag LaOmer) is the anniversary of the day when the plague ended – or when a revolt led by Simon Bar Kokhba achieved a victory against the Roman Empire. It is also the anniversary of the death one of the students from Rabbi Akiva’s second cohort: Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai, whose life is celebrated as a symbol of hope for the future.
All the activities people put on hold during the period of mourning, resume on the 33rd Day of the Omer. Additionally, some people will make a pilgrimage to sacred sites. In some communities, people build bonfires to symbolize the ways in which people marked the beginning of the holidays and the sabbath in medieval times and the fires Bar Kokhba’s soldiers would have used to communicate. (Similarly, children may use toy boy and arrows to reenact the revolt.) Bonfires and torches are also symbolic of the mystical fire that surrounded Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai as he shared his wisdom of the Torah on his last day. Finally, the fires symbolize the light of the Torah and the return of that light to the Jewish people.
They are a reminder that Rabbi Akiva didn’t give up – even when all were lost and he hit the proverbial wall.
“And the world was desolate of Torah until Rabbi Akiva came to our Rabbis in the South and taught his Torah to them. This second group of disciples consisted of Rabbi Meir, Rabbi Yehuda, Rabbi Yosei, Rabbi Shimon, and Rabbi Elazar ben Shamua. And these are the very ones who upheld the study of Torah at that time. Although Rabbi Akiva’s earlier students did not survive, his later disciples were able to transmit the Torah to future generations.”
– quoted from Yevamot 62b:10 in The Koren Talmud Bavli Noé (Vol. 14 Yevamot 1), with commentary by Rabbi Adin Even-Israel Steinsaltz and English from The William Davidson digital edition
For Those Who Missed It: The following was originally posted in 2020. One quote was moved. Additionally, the first and third paragraphs have been slightly revised.
“For there is no doubt that the most radical division that it is possible to make of humanity is that which splits it into two classes of creatures: those who make great demands on themselves, piling up difficulties and duties; and those who demand nothing special of themselves, but for whom to live is to be every moment what they already are, without imposing on themselves any effort towards perfection; mere buoys that float on the waves.”
― from The Revolt of the Masses by José Ortega y Gasset
My friend Bob P once told me this joke: “There are two kinds of people in a kayak, the people that just fell out and the people who are about to fall out.” I find his joke is a pretty apropos metaphor for that feeling of “hitting the wall” during [the] pandemic; if you haven’t hit the wall, you’re about to hit the wall. The same can be said for some of life’s greatest heartaches. While it might seem trite to suggest that you can tell a lot about a person by how they get over/under/around/through the wall, it doesn’t change the fact that [what we’ve been through and are going through] is all part of our circumstances and, to paraphrase José Ortega y Gasset, we are (in part) our circumstances.
Born in Spain, today (May 9th) in 1883, Ortega y Gasset was an existential philosopher and writer, as well as a bit of an activist/social reformer, who believed that life was simultaneously fate and freedom, but that freedom could only be experienced within a given fate. In other words, we must play the hand we’re dealt – but, and this is key, we decide what game we’re playing with the hand we’re dealt. In fact, Ortega y Gasset encouraged actively deciding and creating a “project of life” and, in doing so, create meaning not only for one’s self, but also for others.
Yoga Sūtra 2.18: prakāśkriyāsthitiśīlam bhūtendriyāmakam bhogāpavargārtham dŗśyam
– “The objective world (what is seen), consisted of a combination of elements and senses, and having a nature of illumination, activity, and stability, has two purposes: fulfillment and freedom.
Yoga Sūtra 2.19: viśeşāviśeşalingamātrālingāni guņaparvāņi
– The “gunas” fall into four categories: specific/identifiable, unspecific/unidentifiable, barely describable (by signs), and absolutely indescribable (because it is beyond reference)
It may seem strange, even counterintuitive to some, to draw parallels between the work of 20th century existential philosophers and psychologists (or psychoanalysts) and the work of the ancient yogis (and medieval rabbis). Yet, remember, Patanjali, Vyasa, and the authors of the sacred texts like the Upanishads were explaining their life experiences – just like modern day existentialists – and codifying their life philosophies. When you get right down to it, all of this comes down to an understanding of the nature of things and the nature of ourselves. So, once again, we are back to the same two questions: “Who are you?” and “Where does the world come from?”
José Ortega y Gasset was a strong proponent of creating one’s world and being an active creator rather than a passive receiver. The second section/chapter of the yoga sutras (“The Foundation on Practice”) begins by focusing on how we are creating our world and our experiences in the world – sometimes unconsciously.
“Life cannot wait until the sciences may have explained the universe scientifically. We cannot put off living until we are ready. The most salient characteristic of life is its coerciveness: it is always urgent, “here and now” without any possible postponement. Life is fired at us point-blank. And culture, which is but its interpretation, cannot wait any more than can life itself.”
– from Misión de la Universidad (Mission of the University) by José Ortega y Gasset
Tuesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “05009020 JOyG”]
*NOTE: In most translations of the Talmud, it clearly states that the gentile was the one standing on one foot during the lesson.
### ### “YO SOY YO Y MI CIRCUMSTANCIA” ### ###
Gravas kiel ni diras, aŭ ne diras, kio estas en niaj koroj! “How we say, or don’t say, what is in our hearts is important!” (the “missing” Wednesday post) December 16, 2021
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Books, Changing Perspectives, Food, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Music, One Hoop, Pain, Peace, Philosophy, Suffering, Tragedy, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: Abba, David Gaines, Dr. L. L. Zamenhof, Esperanto, Hillel the Elder, Hugo Nomi, Marjorie Boulton, yoga, Zamenhof Day, Zamenhof-tagon
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“Feliĉan Zamenhof-tagon!” “Feliĉan Feriojn!” [“Happy Zamenhoff Day!” “Happy Holidays!”]
This is the post for Wednesday, December 15th. 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.)
“La okulisto skribis post noktmezo.
Kiam la homa gefrataro pacos?
Kia mistera manko, kia lezo
duonblindigas? Kiu ĝin kuracos?
Kaj kion povas fari unuopa
malriĉa homo por homar’ miopa?”
“The ophthalmologist wrote after midnight.
When will the human brotherhood be at peace?
What a mysterious lack, what an injury
half blind? Who will cure it?
And what can be done individually
poor man for myopic humanity?”
– quoted (in Esperanto and English) from the poem “La Okulisto” (“The Ophthalmologist”) in Eroj (Items) by Marjorie Boulton
What does culture mean to you? Specifically, what does your culture mean to you? And, when I speak of “your culture,” do you think of how you identify yourself or how others identify you (even if certain things don’t apply to you)? Do you think of something specific and personal to you or something related to the dominant culture around you? Of course, it could be all of the above – because, let’s be real, most of us live bi-cultural (or multi-cultural) lives. Most of us exist in a place where cultures overlap. We move in and out of corporate and other institutional cultures – including school and religious cultures – as well as the cultures of our people and our nations or states.
But, again, what do I mean by culture?
Modern dictionaries include the following definitions (for the noun):
- the arts and other manifestations of human intellectual achievement regarded collectively.
- the customs, arts, social institutions, and achievements of a particular nation, people, or other social group.
-
the cultivation of bacteria, tissue cells, etc. in an artificial medium containing nutrients.
- the cultivation of plants.
Noah Webster’s (intentionally American) 1828 dictionary focuses on the word as it’s related to agriculture and physical labor, with the second definition highlighting that it can be “The application of labor or other means to improve good qualities in, or growth; as the culture of the mind; the culture of virtue.”
So, culture could be work intended to improve what it means to be a good human. Got it. Except…it still doesn’t completely answer the question. It also doesn’t explain why “culture” seems to create so much conflict.
“La okulisto verkis kaj parolis,
tradukis, organizis. Kaj la skvamoj
de kelkaj okulparoj jam forfalis,
la antaŭjuĝoj, timoj kaj malamoj.”
“The ophthalmologist wrote and spoke,
translated, organized. And the scales [of]
some eyes have already fallen off,
the prejudices, fears and hatreds.”
– quoted (in Esperanto and English) from the poem “La Okulisto” (“The Ophthalmologist”) in Eroj (Items) by Marjorie Boulton
When most people think about “culture,” they think about behavior. They think about rituals, traditions, laws, expectations, and belief systems. They think about celebrations and the way people mark milestones. They think about clothes, music, and food. All the things that might seem strange to an outsider (or even an insider who has forgotten, or never learned, the underlying meanings of their customs). Focusing on that sense of strangeness can become a form avidyā (“ignorance”) that leads to suffering.
When we focus on the strangeness of something (or someone) we sometimes miss the things we have in common. When we miss our commonalities, we may all miss out on the opportunity to appreciate what makes us unique. That’s one of the reasons it’s so important to share experiences. Shared experiences can become part of our culture and part of our cultural understanding. For instance, when we break bread with people – especially people we view as (culturally) different from us, so we gain some awareness and appreciation of the things we have in common. As David Chang has pointed out in his Netflix series Ugly Delicious, every culture has some kind of dumpling… stir fry… casserole (even if they call it hot dish). People from different cultures may even use similar spices, just in different ways. Or, maybe we just call the spice something different.
Which brings me to one aspect of culture that I left: language (and how we think, based on the language we use).
Many of the world’s languages share roots. However, those shared roots are not on the mind of the average person when they encounter a language that is foreign to them. If someone doesn’t speak a certain language, they may not take the time to figure out what they can understand based on what they know about their own language. They may not consider that their brain actually has the ability to glean some meaning, based on context, because it’s been cultured (i.e., cultivated). In doing so, they may miss out on the opportunity to make a friend or clear up a misunderstanding.
The following was originally part of a post from December 15, 2020. You can read the original context here.
“Tio, kio malamas vin, ne faru al via ulo. Tio estas la tuta Torao; la resto estas la klarigo. Nun iru studi.”
“That which is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow. That is the whole Torah; the rest is the explanation. Now go and study.”
– quoted from the story of Hillel the Elder “[teaching] the meaning of the whole Torah while standing on one foot,” in Esperanto and in English
Born December 15, 1859, in a part of the Russian Empire that is now Poland, Dr. L. L. Zamenhof was a Polish-Jewish ophthalmologist and polyglot. He was born into a Lithuanian-Jewish family that spoke Russian and Yiddish, but his father taught German and French – so he learned those languages, as well as Polish, at a young age. Eventually, he would also master German; have a good understanding of Latin, Hebrew, French, and Belarusian; and basic knowledge of Greek, English, Italian, Lithuanian, and Aramaic. At some point, he also studied Volapük, a constructed language created by Johann Martin Schleyer (a German Catholic priest).
The diverse population in his hometown and his love of language exposed Dr. Zamenhof to different cultures and also to the schisms (and wars) that developed between cultures. He imagined what the world would be like without conflict, especially conflict that arose from misunderstandings that he saw were the result of miscommunication. He thought that if people could more easily understand each other they would have a better chance of avoiding and/or resolving conflict. In 1873, while he was still a schoolboy, the future eye doctor started developing Esperanto, a constructed language that he called “Lingvo internacia” (“international language”).
Dr. Zamenhof continued his work even as he studied medicine and began working as a doctor. Eventually, he self-published his work (with a little help from his then future father-in-law) under the pseudonym “Doktoro Esperanto” or Doctor Hopeful. He continued to write and translate grammar books in various languages, including Esperanto, and also to look for solutions to oppression and nationalism. He explored various religions and social movements – he even wrote about humanitarianism or humanism (“homaranismo” in Esperanto), based on the teachings of Hillel the Elder. But, he kept coming back to the concept of language as a unifier.
Promoting the language and the idea behind the language would be Dr. Zamenhof’s legacy – a legacy that lived on through his wife (Klara) and their children. Even though the Zamenhof children, as adults, were killed during the Holocaust, along with millions of others, the language lived on. There are currently at least a thousand native speakers of Esperanto, worldwide, and millions who have some working knowledge of the language.
Ni ne estas tiel naivaj, kiel pensas pri ni kelkaj personoj; ni ne kredas, ke neŭtrala fundamento faros el la homoj anĝelojn; ni scias tre bone, ke la homoj malbonaj ankaŭ poste restos malbonaj; sed ni kredas, ke komunikiĝado kaj konatiĝado sur neŭtrala fundamento forigos almenaŭ la grandan amason de tiuj bestaĵoj kaj krimoj, kiuj estas kaŭzataj ne de malbona volo, sed simple de sinnekonado kaj de devigata sinaltrudado.”
“We are not as naive as some people think of us; we do not believe that a neutral foundation will make men angels; we know very well that bad people will stay bad even later; but we believe that communication and acquaintance based on a neutral basis will remove at least the great mass of those beasts and crimes which are caused not by ill will, but simply by [misunderstandings and forced coercion.]”
– quoted from a speech by Dr. L. L. Zamenhof to the Second World Congress of Esperanto, August 27, 1906
Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.
Esperanto music can be found in a lot of different genres, including folk music, rap, reggae, rock, rap, and orchestral music. Wednesday’s playlist features music by David Gaines, an American classical composer and Esperantist. He has served on the advisory board of the Esperantic Studies Foundation; is the Honorary President of the Music Esperanto League; and “won First Prize at the 1995 World Esperanto Association’s Belartaj Konkursoj (competitions in the field of Belles lettres).” His work incorporates Esperanto poetry and the quest for peace.
Eta regaleto (A little treat) on the YouTube playlist.
### pacon / peace ###
Gravas kiel ni diras, aŭ ne diras, kio estas en niaj koroj! “How we say, or don’t say, what is in our hearts is important!” (mostly the music, *UPDATED* w/link) December 15, 2021
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Music, Peace, Philosophy, Wisdom.Tags: Dr. L. L. Zamenhof, Esperanto, Hillel the Elder, yoga
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“Tio, kio malamas vin, ne faru al via ulo. Tio estas la tuta Torao; la resto estas la klarigo. Nun iru studi.”
“That which is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow. That is the whole Torah; the rest is the explanation. Now go and study.”
– quoted from the story of Hillel the Elder “[teaching] the meaning of the whole Torah while standing on one foot,” in Esperanto and in English
Please join me today (Wednesday, December 15th) at 4:30 PM or 7:15 PM for a yoga practice on Zoom. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You will need to register for the 7:15 PM class if you have not already done so. Give yourself extra time to log in if you have not upgraded to Zoom 5.0. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.
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.)
### Feliĉan zamenhoff-tagon! ###
Tempo por vi Brili! “Time for you to Shine!” (a still timely post) December 15, 2020
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Books, Chanukah, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Mysticism, One Hoop, Peace, Philosophy, Religion, Super Heroes, Tragedy, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: Chanukah, Dr. L. L. Zamenhof, Esperanto, Ethics of the Fathers, Hillel the Elder, Maccabees, Pirkei Avot
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You can request an audio recording of Tuesday’s practices via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.)
“Estas la 5a tago kaj 6a nokto de ukanuko – kaj mi deziras al vi pacon en Esperanto.”
– “It’s the 5th day and 6th night of Chanukah – and I’m wishing you peace in Esperanto.”
During the 8 days and nights of Chanukah, I have the opportunity to tell the story of the miracle of light / oil from several different perspectives. Still, when I think about the story as it relates to a conflict of cultures, I very rarely spend a lot of time thinking about how different history would be if all of the Greek rulers had been as “tolerant” as Alexander the Great – or, for that matter, if all rulers and communities throughout history were even more tolerant.
Remember, when Alexander the Great ruled (336 – 323 BCE), Jews in his kingdom had a hard time, a difficult life; but they could still observe their faith and practice their rituals and traditions. The culture of the Jewish people was very different from the Greeks and, as I mention at various times throughout the year, if you are looking at someone’s culture from the outside, and don’t understand the foundation that’s underneath, rituals and traditions seem strange. For that matter, if you get far enough away from the meaning behind your own rituals and traditions, things can seem strange. So, the Greeks under Alexander the Great thought the Jewish people were strange – and made life hard for those they considered strange.
Life was easier for the Hellenic Jews, those who spoke and appeared more Greek and/or paid more attention to the outside rather than the inside (as focus on the exterior body was a prime consideration for the ancient Greeks). Those who eschewed all things Greek, and maintained their language and culture, would find themselves bullied and (if they had a business) they would find their business was not as lucrative as their Hellenic Jewish neighbor. People had to weigh the (social) cost of staying true to their beliefs and values versus the (spiritual) cost of betraying their faith.
“(1) Rabbi [Judah HaNassi] would say: Which is the right path for man to choose for himself? Whatever is harmonious for the one who does it, and harmonious for mankind.
Be as careful with a minor mitzvah as with a major one, for you do not know the rewards of the mitzvot. Consider the cost of a mitzvah against its rewards, and the rewards of a transgression against its cost….
(3) Be careful with the government, for they befriend a person only for their own needs. They appear to be friends when it is beneficial to them, but they do not stand by a person at the time of his distress.”
– quoted from Pirkei Avot (Ethics of the Fathers) (2:1 & 2:3)
Living as a marginalized minority was/is no fun, but it could, and did, get worse – and the story of Chanukah is partially about keeping the faith and overcoming the “worse.” It is not, however, an isolated incident. In fact, throughout history, it seems as if the Jewish people are constantly subjected to the “worse” (and constantly having to overcome it). They are not the only population to hold this unfortunate distinction; however, they are notable in part because they could “pass” for members of the dominant society if they wanted to – or were compelled to do so.
Antiochus IV thought he could compel people to change by making it a crime to follow and observe the tenets of the Jewish faith. He basically said that if people didn’t give up their culture and faith – basically who they were as a people – they would face death.
Now, Antiochus’ stance seems wildly illogical and ignorant to me. He was the ruler of the dominant culture. Why would he care if people didn’t work for one day out of the week? Why would he care if people wore their hair in a different way from him or studied text he couldn’t read? Why would he care if people worshiped something/someone they couldn’t see instead of him and his idols?
Oh, yes, I see, Antiochus was on a power trip. I could say that his power trip was fueled by that first level of avidyā, ignorance about the true nature of things – including his own self. However, I don’t have to go that deep; because a big part of Antiochus’ ignorance came from not understanding the culture that was different from his own. And part of the reason he made life difficult for others is because he didn’t follow the Golden Rule.
“Tio, kio malamas vin, ne faru al via ulo. Tio estas la tuta Torao; la resto estas la klarigo. Nun iru studi.”
“That which is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow. That is the whole Torah; the rest is the explanation. Now go and study.”
– quoted from the story of Hillel the Elder “[teaching] the meaning of the whole Torah while standing on one foot,” in Esperanto and in English
Born to day in 1859, in a part of the Russian Empire that is now Poland, Dr. L. L. Zamenhof was a Polish-Jewish ophthalmologist and polyglot. He was born into a Lithuanian-Jewish family that spoke Russian and Yiddish, but his father taught German and French – so he learned those languages, as well as Polish, at a young age. Eventually, he would also master German; have a good understanding of Latin, Hebrew, French, and Belarusian; and basic knowledge of Greek, English, Italian, Lithuanian, and Aramaic. At some point, he also studied Volapük, a constructed language created by Johann Martin Schleyer (a German Catholic priest).
The diverse population in his hometown and his love of language exposed Dr. Zamenhof to different cultures and also to the schisms (and wars) that developed between cultures. He imagined what the world would be like without conflict, especially conflict that arose from misunderstandings that he saw were the result of miscommunication. He thought that if people could more easily understand each other they would have a better chance at avoiding or resolving conflict. In 1873, while he was still a schoolboy, the future eye doctor started developing Esperanto, a constructed language that he called “Lingvo internacia” (“international language”).
Dr. Zamenhof continued his work even as he studied medicine and began working as a doctor. Eventually, he self-published his work (with a little help from his then future father-in-law) under the pseudonym “Doktoro Esperanto” or Doctor Hopeful. He continued to write and translate grammar books in various languages, including Esperanto, and also to look for solutions to oppression and nationalism. He explored various religions and social movements – he even wrote about humanitarianism or humanism (“homaranismo” in Esperanto), based on the teachings of Hillel the Elder. But, he kept coming back to the concept of language as a unifier.
Promoting the language and the idea behind the language would be Dr. Zamenhof’s legacy – a legacy that lived on through his wife (Klara) and their children. Even though the Zamenhof children, as adults, were killed during the Holocaust, along with millions of others, the language lived on. There are currently at least a thousand native speakers of Esperanto, worldwide, and millions who have some working knowledge of the language.
Ni ne estas tiel naivaj, kiel pensas pri ni kelkaj personoj; ni ne kredas, ke neŭtrala fundamento faros el la homoj anĝelojn; ni scias tre bone, ke la homoj malbonaj ankaŭ poste restos malbonaj; sed ni kredas, ke komunikiĝado kaj konatiĝado sur neŭtrala fundamento forigos almenaŭ la grandan amason de tiuj bestaĵoj kaj krimoj, kiuj estas kaŭzataj ne de malbona volo, sed simple de sinnekonado kaj de devigata sinaltrudado.”
“We are not as naive as some people think of us; we do not believe that a neutral foundation will make men angels; we know very well that bad people will stay bad even later; but we believe that communication and acquaintance based on a neutral basis will remove at least the great mass of those beasts and crimes which are caused not by ill will, but simply by [misunderstandings and forced coercion.]”
– quoted from a speech by Dr. L. L. Zamenhof to the Second World Congress of Esperanto, August 27, 1906
Tuesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.