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.
“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.
“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.
“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.)
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
“Form follows function – that has been misunderstood. Form and function should be one, joined in spiritual union.”
– Frank Lloyd Wright
Yoga is the Sanskrit word for union – and we could spend all day talking about what that means in a literal sense, let alone in a spiritual or metaphorical sense. But, let’s just focus on the spiritual for a moment. The 8-limb philosophy of yoga contains several references to a spiritual (or metaphysical) element. That is to say, there is an acknowledgement that people are more than bodies and more than minds. Furthermore, within that acknowledgement is the awareness that inherent in the mind-body connection is the “more,” whatever that means, and that the end goal of the philosophical practice is to be fully aware of not only the “more” but also of our connection to it. Simply put, the end goal can be defined as “spiritual union.”
Born today in 1867, Frank Lloyd Wright was an architect, interior designer, writer, and teacher who designed over 1,000 structures. Over 500 of his designs were actually built, 50 of which were private houses and ~10 of those houses (plus a gas station) are in Minnesota. Almost 60 of his designs were built in his birth state of Wisconsin. Wright believed in organic architecture, the idea that a building should be in harmony with nature/environment and humanity. He pioneered the Prairie School architecture movement in the late 19th / early 20th century and would not only design a structure, but also the furniture contained within the structure.
Wright’s work and work-philosophy is a great reminder to build from the ground up and also to consider how everything works together. We need the reminder, because, sometimes we forget our purpose. Sometimes we get so far into an idea or the development of a thing that we forget its original function. Sometimes we get so distracted by the form that we forget the original intention. And, this way of thinking can become such a habit that we may forget there was/is another way to work.
“Get in the habit of analysis – analysis will in time enable synthesis to become your habit of mind.”
– Frank Lloyd Wright
On a philosophical (and political) note, people all over the US – and especially here in the Twin Cities – are talking about scrapping something and starting over from scratch, versus fixing what exists. I’m not intending to weigh in here on my personal opinion regarding defunding versus reforming an existing part of our government and infrastructure. What I will say is that, both require considering the original blueprint. Also, as a whole, I think we are a society that is in the habit of building and engaging without analysis (with analysis being a type of mindfulness). To me, the question of defunding or reforming is moot if there’s no analysis or consideration of the underlying foundation – which is shaky at best. How do we, as a society, build from the ground up and build in harmony with humanity and our environment if we haven’t really considered the elements which make up our environment?
Frank Lloyd Wright conceived of a utopian America, which would be a reflection of (and reflected by) the architecture. Form and function would be one; people would live, work, play, and pray in harmony with one another and with their environment. The open format of the structures would allow for interaction between family members, even as they engaged in their own pursuits. He called this concept of America “Usonia,” which is very close to the Esperanto name for the United States. (Esperanto being the language L. L. Zamenhof created in order for the world to have a shared language, which he believed would lead to a more unified society.) While Wright’s Usonian designs still influence home and workspace designs to this day, he couldn’t seem to maintain an idyllic home life for himself and his family, let alone idyllic professional relationships.
“Space is the breath of art.”
– Frank Lloyd Wright
Let’s breathe together and build (each pose and every sequence) from the ground up. If it’s possible, please join me on the virtual mat today (Monday, June 8th) at 5:30 PM for a 75-minute yoga practice on Zoom.
This is a 75-minute Common Ground Meditation Center practice that, in the spirit of generosity (dana), is freely given and freely received. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below.
A Joyful Practice 