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FTWMI: The Art of Moving Meditation September 6, 2022

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Books, Buddhism, California, Changing Perspectives, Depression, Faith, Healing Stories, Hope, Japa, Japa-Ajapa, Life, Loss, Love, Meditation, Men, Minneapolis, Minnesota, Mysticism, One Hoop, Pain, Philosophy, Suffering, Tragedy, Vipassana, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.
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For Those Who Missed It: A version of the following was originally posted in 2020. Links and class details have been added or updated.

“If something is boring after 2 minutes, try it for 4. If still boring, then 8. Then 16. Then 38. Eventually one discovers that it is not boring at all.”

– John Cage

Words are amazing! In fact, shabda, our ability to create and use words, is one of our siddhis or “abilities” described in Indian philosophy as “unique to being human.”  And, when you know where they come from, words (and the way we use them) can be really funny. Take the word zen, for instance. The word zen is a Japanese word that comes to us from Sanskrit by way of Chinese, from a word that means “meditation.” So, when we say that someone practices “Zen meditation” what we are really saying is that someone practices “Meditation meditation.”

It’s funny to think of it that way, but it is also true – not only of a Zen practice, but of all meditation practices. When we sit, or even when we practice a moving meditation, the mind focuses on something again and again and again; meaning, it keeps coming back to the object of focus. Similar to japa-ajapa, we repeat and repeat, repeat and remember, repeat and understand – in other words, we gain insight. Not coincidentally, the Sanskrit word dyana (“thought, meditation”), which is the source word for zen, comes from the Greek root meaning “to see, look.” So, when we look at something again, and again, and again – even looking, as Paulo Coehlo suggested, from different perspectives – we see things “in a special way” (which is just another way to say “insight”). Our understanding of the moment (and movement) is a matter of perspective.

“The truth knocks on the door and you say, “Go away, I’m looking for the truth,” and so it goes away. Puzzling.”

– quoted from Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry into Values by Robert Pirsig

It’s like a road trip. The vehicle is moving but we are still inside the vehicle; the scenery is still, but appears to be moving. Everything merges and converges while we are still. Do you see where we’re going?

It’s OK if you don’t. This is kind of like that old joke where someone says, “I’m not lost. I know exactly where we are. We’re in the car.” Now, consider what happens if we could get out of the box or cage we’re in and become part of the scenery. Not walking necessarily, but riding. So that the scenery is simultaneously still and moving… but so are we. And, just like with a moving meditation, there is some part of us that always stays still.

“Get yourself out of whatever cage you find yourself.”

– John Cage

“In a car you’re always in a compartment, and because you’re used to it you don’t realize that through that car window everything you see is just more TV. You’re a passive observer and it is all moving by you boringly in a frame.

On a cycle the frame is gone. You’re completely in contact with it all. You’re in the scene, not just watching it anymore, and the sense of presence is overwhelming.”

– quoted from Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry into Values by Robert Pirsig

Born today in 1928, in Minneapolis, Minnesota, Robert Pirsig was a writer and philosopher whose way above average IQ was identified at an early age. While he ultimately served in the United States Army and  became a professor of creative writing, he is most well-known as the author of a fictionalized autobiography that centers around a road trip Pirsig took with his son Chris. The trip took them from Minneapolis to San Francisco. The book takes the reader along for the ride and also on a philosophical road trip, moving readers through a history of philosophy and an exploration of “quality” (an object of contemplation). While Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry into Values received over one hundred rejection letters and no one expected it to have much of a shelf life, the book initially sold at least 5 million copies worldwide and has consistently appeared on best seller lists.

Pirsig served as vice-President of the Minnesota Zen Mediation Center and spent two additional years on its board of directors. But while he was familiar with motorcycles and Zen Buddhism (as well as electroshock therapy, which is also chronicled in the book), Robert Pirsig said that his seminal book shouldn’t be considered “factual” about either. The same can be said about his follow-up book, Lila: An Inquiry into Morals, which recounts a sailboat trip down the Hudson River. Lila picks up where the philosophical road trip left off and explores “quality” as Static or Dynamic and divides everything in the universe into four “static values” (inorganic, biological, social, and intellectual). His exploration about morals is also an exploration of perspective, and how perspectives change over time. Even though biographies indicate that a 1974 Guggenheim Fellowship “allowed” him to write the second book and the philosophical discourse into metaphysics is continuous, there is a seventeen-year gap between the books.

In the 17 years between his books, Pirsig divorced his first wife, married his second wife, lost his oldest son (who had been featured in the first book), and had a daughter. His son Christopher was killed in a mugging outside the San Francisco Zen Meditation Center. Pirsig would eventually explain that one of the reasons he and his second wife had their daughter Nell was because they believed she was a continuation of Chris’s “life pattern.” In other words, Nell was part of the same trip (metaphysically speaking, of course.)

“You look at where you’re going and where you are and it never makes sense, but then you look back at where you’ve been and a pattern seems to emerge. And if you project forward from that pattern, then sometimes you can come up with something.”

– quoted from Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry into Values by Robert Pirsig

Please join me today (Tuesday, September 6th) at 12:00 PM or 7:15 PM for a yoga practice on Zoom. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.

Tuesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “09062020 The Art of Moving Meditation”]

“The thing to understand is that if you are going to reform society you don’t start with cops. And if you are going to reform intellect you don’t start with psychiatrists. If you don’t like our present social system or intellectual system the best thing you can do with either cops or psychiatrists is stay out of their way. You leave them till last.”

– quoted from Lila: An Inquiry into Morals by Robert Pirsig

“The place to improve the world is first in one’s own heart and head and hands, and then work outward from there.”

– quoted from Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry into Values by Robert Pirsig

### ZOOOOOOM ###

FTWMI: The Result of Labor (with updates) September 5, 2022

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Art, Life, One Hoop, Tragedy.
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For Those Who Missed It: The following was originally posted in 2020, but I’ve updated the class details and added a 2022 video link that highlights a very important point. There’s also a link to date-related post. 

“Your Honor, years ago I recognized my kinship with all living beings, and I made up my mind then that I was not one bit better than the meanest on earth. I said then, and I say now, that while there is a lower class, I am in it; and while there is a criminal element, I am of it; and while there is a soul in prison, I am not free.”

– Eugene V. Debs, quoted from his statement to the Federal Court (Cleveland, Ohio), after being convicted of violating the Sedition Act, September 18, 1918

Today, the first Monday in September, is Labor Day in the United States and parts of Canada. We often think of Labor Day as the long weekend that marks the end of summer and the beginning of “our regular routines.” It’s one of the Federal holidays typically marked with big sales, fairs, parades, and the last big barbecues and picnics. However, there is nothing typical about this year and – with the exception of the parades – none of this reflects the original intention behind Labor Day.

Labor Day has a bloody history rooted in the Labor Movement, whose history runs parallel to the history of the Socialist Movement. It was one of the outcomes of social activism and what happens when the government decides not to honor its citizens’ right to assembly. In fact, the federal holiday was established in the United States as a direct response to conflict which arose the first time the federal government used an injunction to break up a workers’ strike in the United States.

During the last twenty years of the 19th century, there were approximately 37,000 strikes in the United States, resulting in at least 800 people being killed – with almost all the deaths being the result of altercations between the striking workers and state security forces or the military. Everything came to a head, however, with the Pullman Strike (and subsequent railroad boycott) during the late Spring and Summer of 1894.

The Pullman Palace Car Company was not only a major employer of a diverse workforce, it was also the owner and operator of the Illinois town where most of its workers lived. The company provided homes as well as groceries and all other amenities…for a fee, of course. When the economic depression kicked in 1893, the company lowered the workers already low wages; however, it did not lower rent or the cost of other goods and services within the town. Facing starvation, the workers attempted to schedule a meeting with the company’s president, George M. Pullman. When Pullman refused to meet with the workers they voted to strike. As the strike began, the company announced that the factory was closed – essentially undermining the workers’ leverage. Most of the workers, however, were part of the American Railway Union (ARU) and when the union met, for its first annual convention, it voted for a boycott.

I’m condensing and simplifying the situation a bit here, but the bottom line is that there was a cascade affect that successfully tied up railway traffic on all lines west of Chicago and eventually in most of the United States (with the exception of the East and Deep South where the striking unions were not as strong). While the union leadership, in particular the ARU’s president Eugene V. Debs urged the striking workers and their families to stay calm, people were filled with anger and that anger turned a peaceful rally into a rage-filled moment that derailed a locomotive which was attached to a U. S. Mail train. Previously, states and local militia had engaged the wildcat strikes that were breaking out, but after the events of June 29th, an injunction was obtained which cited the Sherman Antitrust Act and the Interstate Commerce Act – and prevented the ARU leadership from communicating with the striking workers, even  to urge peaceful protests. The injunction also enabled President Grover Cleveland to order in federal troops, whose orders were not focused on peace, but instead on making sure the trains kept running.

The arrival of the federal troops further enraged the striking workers and their supporters, who overturned trains, erected barriers, and destroyed railcars. Ironically, this uptick of destruction started on Independence Day. By July 7th, the altercations had turned deadly. By the second week of July, upwards of 250,000 workers in 27 states were participating in some aspect of the protests and riots. Whereas people outside of the workforce had initially sympathized with the workers, it had become something the general populace feared would directly impact them in a detrimental way. The mainstream media and the United States Congress also started changing their minds about the situation. By the end, at least 30 people had been killed, the ARU leadership had been arrested, and the strikers had lost over $1 million in wages. The railroads had lost millions of dollars in revenue and in looted and damaged property.

And, this is where things turned again.

Previously, as trade unions and the labor movement worked for workers’ rights (including fair wages and safe working conditions), different groups chose different dates to celebrate and honor the “contributions workers have made to the strength, prosperity, and wellbeing of our country.” After the deaths of the workers in the Summer of 1894, Congress and President Cleveland needed something to maintain peace and acknowledge the needs of the people. They decided to dedicate a day, complete with a street parade, to recognize the “social and economic achievements of American workers.” Of course, May Day (May 1st) was already International Workers’ Day, but it was so closely associated with the Socialist Movement – which some of the ARU leadership was gravitating towards – that President Cleveland wanted a day that would not encourage additional strikes and protests. Today is that day.

“I am not a Labor Leader; I do not want you to follow me or anyone else; if you are looking for a Moses to lead you out of this capitalist wilderness, you will stay right where you are. I would not lead you into the promised land if I could, because if I led you in, someone else would lead you out. You must use your heads as well as your hands, and get yourself out of your present condition; as it is now the capitalists use your heads and your hands.”

– quoted from “Life of Eugene V. Debs” in Debs : His Life, Writings and Speeches by Stephen Marion Reynolds, edited by Bruce Rogers and Stephen Marion Reynolds

Please join me on the virtual mat today (Monday, September 5th) at 5:30 PM for a 75-minute virtual yoga practice.

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.

If you are able to support the center and its teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” my other practices, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible, class purchases are not necessarily.)

There is no playlist for the Common Ground practices.

The composer John Cage was born today in 1912. Click here if you want to read about how he worked and how Buddhism influenced his work.

“I am opposing a social order in which it is possible for one man who does absolutely nothing that is useful to amass a fortune of hundreds of millions of dollars, while millions of men and women who work all the days of their lives secure barely enough for a wretched existence.”

– Eugene V. Debs, quoted from his statement to the Federal Court (Cleveland, Ohio), after being convicted of violating the Sedition Act, September 18, 1918

We’re all connected to the origins

### RELEASE • RELAX • REST ###

Miracles in December (the Sunday post) December 13, 2021

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Art, Bhakti, Books, Changing Perspectives, Faith, First Nations, Healing Stories, Hope, Kirtan, Music, Mysticism, Peace, Philosophy, Religion, Science, Wisdom, Women, Yoga.
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This is the post for Sunday, December 12th. You can request an audio recording of Sunday’s practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.

In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.

Check out the “Class Schedules” calendar for upcoming classes.)

“I try to find you, who I can’t see
I try to hear you, who I can’t hear

Then I start to see things I couldn’t see
Hear things I couldn’t hear
Because after you left
I received a power I didn’t have before”

 

– quoted from the song “Miracles in December” by EXO

‘Tis the season for miracles!

Ok, let’s be real. If you look at a calendar – you will find that there a plethora of miracles in every season. In fact, the Roman Catholic Church has a whole calendar that, essentially, celebrates miracles attributed to various people. This time of year, however, there seems to be a concentration of miracles – or maybe it just feels that way because so many of the miracles are similar and/or connected.

On Wednesday, I mentioned that within the Roman Catholic tradition there are almost 20 Marian feast days (i.e., days honoring the Virgin Mary), excluding local and regional days devoted to this holy mother. I even mentioned that December 9th, like December 8th, is a day when some people in the world celebrate the miracle of this blessed woman’s birth, a birth… which was itself a miracle. Of course, when most people (even many Christians) think of the miracle of birth, they think of the newborn baby and, in this context, they think of Jesus. Interestingly, December 12th is also a Marian feast day in the Roman Catholic tradition. It is a day associated with several miracles that occurred over a series of days (beginning on the aforementioned December 9th) in 1531, culminating with the fourth (or fifth) miraculous apparition occurring on December 12th.  

Or, at least that’s how the story has been told for almost 500 years.

But, it turns out there was more to the story.

And whether you believe the story or not*, it’s a tale full of compelling evidence. One could even say that the “balance of probabilities” or “preponderance of the evidence” was enough to convince a man who identified himself as being “poor” (possibly in spirit) and who was not inclined to believe his own senses.

“For those who believe, no proof is necessary. For those who do not believe, no proof is possible.”

 

– Stuart Chase

An important part of this story is the timeline.* However, before we get started, we need to clarify the timeline. In October of 1582, Papal-governed nations like Italy, Spain, Portugal, France, and the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth switched to the Gregorian calendar. Up until then, these nations – as well as their colonies – used the Julian calendar. So, keep in mind that even though the events of our story took place according to the Julian calendar, most people today celebrate according to the Gregorian calendar.

That said, our story begins on Saturday, December 9, 1531, when an Indigenous man in what is now Mexico City was walking to mass. His journey took Juan Diego Cuāuhtlahtoātzin across Tepeyac Hill, which many modern people believe had been a sacred Aztec site associated with a mother goddess. Please keep in mind that this future saint, Juan Diego, was an adult and Spanish missionaries had only been in his country for about eight years. So, if historians are correct, he would have known the significance of the site. Either way, as he was walking along his way, he started hearing birds singing. It was an odd time of year to hear this type of birdsong and so it made him pause.

Perhaps he looked around for the source. Have you ever done that? Heard some beautiful sounds in nature (or maybe something that startled you) and you looked around to verify what you were hearing? Perhaps that’s what San Juan Diego did in 1531. Only, instead of birds, he saw the vision of a young woman. She was dressed in clothes that would have been familiar to him and she spoke his language (Nahuatl), but what she said was strange. She identified herself as the virgin mother – which was weird, because she didn’t look like the pictures and descriptions that came courtesy of the priests. She was not fair-haired or fair-skinned. She looked and spoke more like Juan Diego’s people. Stranger even than her appearance was that she wanted this poor man to go to the Franciscan bishop and ask that a chapel be built where she appeared. 

Now, a little back story about this bishop might be handy (just so you can understand his possible state of mind). His Excellency Don Juan de Zumárraga y Arrazola O. F. M. was born into a noble Basque family in Spain. I’m unclear when he entered the priesthood; however, several significant things happened when he was approaching 60 years old. First, he was named as custodian of a convent. That same year, 1527, he was appointed as a judge in a court investigating witches and recommended by the Holy Roman Emperor (Charles V) to be the first bishop of Mexico (New Spain). A year later he was in the “New World,” but only had the title(s) of bishop-elect and “Protector of the Indians.” His role was not officially consecrated until April of 1533 – which means that in 1531, during the time of our story – he could not fully execute his duties. Oh, also there was dissension in the ranks and the ever-present possibility of a socio-political and religious mutiny.

So, here comes Juan Diego with his message from the Divine Mother. To be clear, he was a reluctant messenger from the very beginning, but he was even more so after visiting the bishop-elect, who (naturally) did not believe him. I say “naturally,” because even if Juan Diego was 100% convinced of his mission, the bishop-elect and “Protector of the Indians” would have been skeptical. He may have wondered why this “poor” indigenous man would be blessed with a visitation instead of someone like him, who had devoted his life to God and the Church. He might have questioned Juan Diego’s description of the woman. Finally, his previous experience serving with the court that examined witches, may have made him skeptical of anything that might be considered “hallucinatory,” especially if it was related to women.

On his way back home, defeated, discouraged, and doubtful, San Juan Diego again saw and spoke with the lady on the hill. At some point, he even pulled a Moses and suggested that someone else would be better suited for the job of messenger. But no, the blessed mother was sending him; the man whose surname (Cuāuhtlahtoātzin) means “He who speaks like an eagle.” 

“Do you hear what I hear?
Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy
Do you hear what I hear? (Hear what I hear)
Ringing through the night, shepherd boy
Do you hear what I hear (Hear what I hear)
A song, a song, high above the trees
With a voice as big as the sea
With a voice as big as the sea

 

– 1st verse of “Do You Hear What I Hear” by Whitney Houston

The next day, Sunday, December 10th, Juan Diego went back to speak to His Excellency Don Juan de Zumárraga y Arrazola. Again, he was not believed; but this time the man who would become the first bishop and the first archbishop of Mexico told Juan Diego to go back to Tepeyac Hill and ask for proof. He wanted some form of religious currency – and here, I don’t mean a bribe: he wanted a verifiable miracle.

As instructed, Juan Diego went to the hill to request proof, which he was told he would receive if he came to the hill the next day. Unbeknownst to him, the bishop elect sent servants or guards to follow him, but “some how” they lost him. Of course, the servants or guards weren’t going to admit that they lost an indigenous “peasant.” So, they went back and told the bishop-elect that Juan Diego was a liar who had made the whole thing up. They accused him of a number of things that would be considered heretical and blasphemous. If this story were happening today, he might have been accused of “pushing a woke (or liberal) agenda” – because who else but a social justice warrior would request a church devoted to a brown-skinned Madonna.

Now, here’s where the story takes a turn, because Juan Diego does not return to Tepeyac Hill on Monday, December 11th. It’s not that he didn’t believe or didn’t take his task seriously, it’s not that he didn’t care. But, he did have a more urgent need to address: his beloved uncle Juan Diego Bernardino was deathly ill. This uncle, who had taken him in after his parents died, needed someone to take care of him; and so Juan Diego did what was needed. At some point, however, it became clear that San Juan Diego’s physical ministrations were not enough. That Tuesday morning, December 12th, he left home to find a priest who could administer the last rites. 

Imagine his grief. Imagine his pain. Also, imagine the urgency of his quest and the shame. Yes, he felt shame and embarrassment, because he hadn’t gone back to the hill to get the proof requested by the bishop-elect. He was also in a hurry and so he tried to figure out another route. Some other way that he could reach the church and find a priest without being stopped by the vision. But, to no avail. Our Lady of Guadalupe was still waiting for him.

“¿No estoy yo aquí que soy tu madre?”

[“Am I not here, I who am your mother?”] 

 

– Spanish quoted from the front entrance of the modern (or new) Basílica de Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, based on the 17th century Nahuatl text Nican Mopohua (Here Is Told)

 

The vision of the Divine Mother told him that his uncle had recovered. (Later he would learn that his uncle Juan Diego Bernardino had also received a visit from the Blessed Mother.) Our Lady of Guadalupe told the future saint that if he went up to the top of the hill, where it was the coldest, he would find proof that he could take back to the bishop-elect. Juan Diego did as he was told and found the peak covered in roses. These were roses that were not indigenous to the area. Fragrant roses that could not be bought at any supermarket or mercado in the area. Flower covered in morning dew – even though it was too cold and out of season for such flowers to grow. As astounded as he must have been (and relieved because his uncle was well), he managed to gather as many flowers as he could carry in his tilma (or cloak) and brought them to the vision. She touched each flower and placed them back in his blanket-like cape. 

Now, to be clear, at this point in the story, Juan Diego had experienced these miracles with almost every one of his senses. He has heard them, seen them, smelled them, and felt them. He has thought about them and remembered them with clarity. One could argue that the only sense not engaged was his sense of taste; but since smell and taste are closely connected, we can’t exclude the possibility that the fragrant flowers left and impression on his tongue.

Yet, there was more.

After some resistance (mostly from the servants or guards at the Church), Juan Diego was admitted into the bishop’s chambers. When he opened his tilma the roses fell out onto the flower. More roses than he could have carried and, again, roses that were out of season and not available in the area. Some say they were Castilian roses, meaning they were indigenous to Spain and, theoretically, would have been recognizable to His Excellency Don Juan de Zumárraga y Arrazola O. F. M. as such.

But, there was more.

When the roses fell on the floor, they revealed an image in the tilma: a vibrant image of the Virgin Mary as she appeared to Juan Diego. She appeared to be mestiza, a mixture of two ethnicities: Aztec and Spanish. Her dark hair was parted to indicate that she was a virgin. Her blue-green mantilla or veil was covered in stars, indicating that she came from Heaven and also (by their pattern) establishing the date and time of her appearance. Her hands were in prayer with her fingers pointed to the cross that she wore at the top of her dress. A black ribbon tied beneath her hands and above her belly indicated that she was encinta, “enclosed in the ribbon” – which means she was pregnant. Four-petaled and eight-petaled flowers covered the cloth over her belly and the lower portion of her dress. She stood in the clouds, in front of the sun (which some say represents Huitzilopochtli, the Aztec god of the sun and of war). She also stood on top of the moon (some say crushing the Aztec’s Quetzalcóatl, the feathered serpent moon god) with a shoe that looks like the tilma. Finally, the edge of her mantilla and the edge of her dress were held up by “an angel with eagle wings” who wore a shirt and cross that matched hers.

I say “finally,” but – to be clear – I’ve only highlighted some (but not all) of the most obvious elements of the image. An image that scientists have said was not painted and has no (significant) brushstrokes. An image that, though I refer to it in the past tense above, reportedly looks almost** exactly the same as it did when it was first revealed (almost 500 years ago) – despite the fact that it was not protected from the elements for over one hundred years.

Also, I’ve left out explanations for a lot of the symbols, a note about Her name, and a few things that would not have been obvious when the image was first revealed. For example, the eyes of Our Lady of Guadalupe are shaped like a real person’s eyes and modern science has revealed that they contain two images: reflections of two scenes which include the images of people like San Juan Diego and His Excellency Don Juan de Zumárraga y Arrazola.

Then there are the flowers…

Each celestial body, in fact each and every atom, produces a particular sound on account of its movement, its rhythm or vibration. All these sounds and vibrations form a universal harmony in which each element, while having it’s own function and character, contributes to the whole.

 

– quote attributed to Pythagoras (of Samos)

The arrangement of the stars and flowers held significance right off the bat. Some of the flowers even look different when viewed at different angles, but a Mexico accountant (recently) discovered that there’s more to the arrangement than date, time, topography, and religious symbolism. According to Fernando Ojeda, a member of the Instituto Superior de Estudios Guadalupanos (ISEG), the arrangement is, well, an actual arrangement. It’s music.

Analyzing the image from a mathematical perspective, Fernando Ojeda found that it was symmetrical and maintained the golden ratio. When he asked what would be considered the “most symmetrical” instrument, someone told him it was a piano. So, he framed a copy of the image with a golden triangle and had a musical colleague overlap the image with a drawing of a piano so that they could transcribe the stars and flowers into music notes. Then, Fernando Ojeda plugged the notes into a computer program and (with the help of some classical musicians) produced what could easily be described as something heavenly.

I know, I know. Even if you believe all the rest of the story, you might be skeptical of this last bit. Especially if you know about John Cage and the wind chimes.  However, when the ISEG analysts reportedly applied these same methods to paintings from the 16th and 17th century, the painted stars and flowers did not produce anything that would have met with Bach’s approval.

“[Music] should have no other end and aim than the glory of God and the re-creation of the soul, where this is not kept in mind, there is no true music, but only an infernal clamour and ranting.”

 

– Johann Sebastian Bach (b. 1685)

Sunday’s playlist is available on YouTube only. Spotify users can find similar music on the Mother’s Day 2020 playlist.

[NOTE: I could not find “the music of the mantle” on Spotify, but it’s embedded/linked below along with a third track that is not on the Mother’s Day playlist.]

I can’t help wondering, is this the music (of the birds) that San Juan Diego heard?

 

A longer version…

 

“Miracles in December”

 

*NOTE: Many scholars and theologians are skeptical about the story of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Some of the skepticism surrounds the timeline and the fact that the first written account didn’t appear until the 17th century. There is also some confusion about the name, confusion that is heightened by translating into (and out of) languages that don’t share an original culture. Some of that language confusion all revolves around a misunderstanding about what is a title and what is a name.

 

**NOTE: Acid was spilled on the tilma in 1791, but it appears that there was minimum damage and/or (as some people believe) the image healed itself. The visions crown has been altered. Scientists have disagreed about how much the image has faded or flaked over the years, but consistently agree that it seems to be very little.

 

 

### WHAT DO YOU BELIEVE? ###

 

Repeating The Echo: The Cagey Truth About Nothing September 5, 2021

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Art, Books, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Faith, Japa-Ajapa, Life, Meditation, Music, Mysticism, Philosophy, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.
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This was originally posted as “The Cagey Truth About Nothing” on September 5, 2020. Today’s class details have been updated.

“Every moment is an echo of nothing.”

 

– John Cage

Listen. Do that 90-second thing. Just for a moment, be still and be quiet.

Notice what you hear.

Notice what you see.

Notice what you feel.

Because, as long as you are alive, these things are always happening.

“Everything we do is music.”

“The world is teeming; anything can happen.”

 

– John Cage

We refer to the absence of something as nothing, but in actuality there is always something. Our understanding of nothing or emptiness is based on our perception and awareness of the truth. Zen Buddhism, which John Cage practiced, focuses on self-restraint, meditation, insight into the nature of the mind and the nature of things, and the personal expression of this insight – especially as it benefits others. This, truly, parallels the focus of the yoga philosophy. It’s tricky, cagey even; however, if we pay attention we start to notice that the truth about nothing leads to the truth about everything – and Patanjali tells us that being dedicated to to the truth leads to everything.

Yoga Sūtra 2.36: satyapratişţhāyām kriyāphalāśrayatvam

 

– “When a yogi is established in truthfulness, actions begin to bear fruit. [Truth is the foundation for fruitful action.]”

Born today in 1912, John Cage was an artist and composer who’s most well-known work is often misinterpreted. Even as musicians – even heavy metal musicians – who understand the piece take it on, there is often a level of interpretation and improvisation that changes the tenure of the piece. Some say Mr. Cage would approve of such things. Others say otherwise, but the truth of the matter is that he was a student not only of art and music, but also of Zen Buddhism, Indian philosophy, chance, and (yes) improvisation. He turned more towards music than art because more people commented on his music and, in some ways, music was harder for him. He combined his two art forms by composing music for “prepared piano,” a piano that had been altered with blocks, pins, and other objects – and essentially turned into a percussion instrument. He also collaboration with his partner Merce Cunningham, the choreographer, and spent years composing via the I Ching, a resource for divination.

Divination comes from the Latin word for “to foresee, to foretell, to predict, to prophesy” and, it is related to the Latin word for “divine,” it can be translated as “to be inspired by God.” It is, like randomly opening a page in the Bible or your favorite book, a way to gain insight into a particular situation. The I Ching or Book of Changes (sometimes translated as Classic of Changes) is an ancient resource for Chinese divination and one of the oldest Chinese classics. It became one of the “Five Classics” in the 2nd Century B.C. and has provided influenced art, literature, philosophy, and religion around the world since the Western Zhou period (1000 – 750 B. C.).

The text is the primary reference for interpreting a sequence of hexagrams which can be formed with numbers or by throwing coins containing the symbols for “yin” (a broken line) or “yang” (an unbroken line). Just like other users of Chinese divination, John Cage would form a question, throw the coins, and then create a musical interpretation of the resulting hexagon sequence and its corresponding message. While he had previously composed “by chance,” using the I Ching became his standard method of composing music after one of his students gave him a copy of the sacred text in 1951. In a 1957 lecture, he described music as “purposeless play” and “a way of waking up to the very life we’re living.”

“If something is boring after 2 minutes, try it for 4. If still boring, then 8. Then 16. Then 38. Eventually one discovers that it is not boring at all.”

 

– John Cage

It was also in 1951 that Mr. Cage had two other highly influential experiences. His friend and colleague Robert Rauschenberg produced a series of white paintings which appeared to be “blank” canvases, but which actually changed based on lighting and the shadows of the people viewing them. Around this same time, Mr. Cage spent some time in an anechoic chamber at Harvard University. The chamber was designed so that every part of the room absorbed sound, rather than reflecting it, so that it was meant to be completely silent and externally sound-proof.  He expected to hear silence but, instead, he heard a high pitched sound and a low pitched sound. The engineer in charge of the room told him the high pitch was his nervous system and the low pitch was his blood circulation. Instead of silence, he was treated to the music of his own existence.

There is no such thing as an empty space or an empty time. There is always something to see, something to hear. In fact, try as we may to make a silence, we cannot.”

 

– John Cage

Please join me for a 65-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Sunday, September 5th) at 2:30 PM. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.

Today’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. (FAIR WARNING: The volume on these tracks is quite dynamic, more so on the Spotify list. I love this music, however, I know some folks hate it; so, feel free to “randomly” pick another list or…practice in “silence.”)

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.)

Pure Cage

“Get yourself out of whatever cage you find yourself.”

 

John Cage

 

### UNCAGED ###

.

The Art of Moving Meditation September 6, 2020

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Books, Buddhism, California, Changing Perspectives, Depression, Faith, Healing Stories, Hope, Japa, Japa-Ajapa, Life, Loss, Love, Meditation, Men, Minneapolis, Minnesota, Mysticism, One Hoop, Pain, Philosophy, Suffering, Tragedy, Vipassana, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.
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“If something is boring after 2 minutes, try it for 4. If still boring, then 8. Then 16. Then 38. Eventually one discovers that it is not boring at all.”

– John Cage

“The truth knocks on the door and you say, “Go away, I’m looking for the truth,” and so it goes away. Puzzling.”

– quoted from Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry into Values by Robert Pirsig

Yesterday was about the truth… the cagey truth about nothing. Today we start with the truth about words.

Words are amazing! And, when you know where they come from, words (and the way we use them) can be really funny. Take the word zen, for instance. The word zen is a Japanese word that comes to us from Sanskrit by way of Chinese, from a word that means “meditation.” So, when we say that someone practices “Zen meditation” what we are really saying is that someone practices “Meditation meditation.”

It’s funny to think of it that way, but it is also true – not only of a Zen practice, but of all meditation practices. When we sit, or even when we practice a moving meditation, the mind focuses on something again and again and again; meaning, it keeps coming back to the object of focus. Similar to japa-ajapa, we repeat and repeat, repeat and remember, repeat and understand – in other words, we gain insight. Not coincidentally, the Sanskrit word dyana (“thought, meditation”), which is the source word for zen, comes from the Greek root meaning “to see, look.” So, when we look at something again, and again, and again – even looking, as Paulo Coehlo suggested, from different perspectives – we see things “in a special way” (which is just another way to say “insight”). Our understanding of the moment (and movement) is a matter of perspective.

It’s like a road trip. The vehicle is moving but we are still inside the vehicle; the scenery is still, but appears to be moving. Everything merges and converges while we are still. Do you see where we’re going?

It’s OK if you don’t. This is kind of like that old joke where someone says, “I’m not lost. I know exactly where we are. We’re in the car.” Now, consider what happens if we could get out of the box or cage we’re in and become part of the scenery. Not walking necessarily, but riding. So that the scenery is simultaneously still and moving… but so are we. And, just like with a moving meditation, there is some part of us that always stays still.

“Get yourself out of whatever cage you find yourself.”

– John Cage

“In a car you’re always in a compartment, and because you’re used to it you don’t realize that through that car window everything you see is just more TV. You’re a passive observer and it is all moving by you boringly in a frame.

On a cycle the frame is gone. You’re completely in contact with it all. You’re in the scene, not just watching it anymore, and the sense of presence is overwhelming.”

– quoted from Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry into Values by Robert Pirsig

Born today in 1928, in Minneapolis, Minnesota, Robert Pirsig was a writer and philosopher whose way above average IQ was identified at an early age. While he ultimately served in the United States Army and  became a professor of creative writing, he is most well-known as the author of a fictionalized autobiography that centers around a road trip Pirsig took with his son Chris. The trip took them from Minneapolis to San Francisco. The book takes the reader along for the ride and also on a philosophical road trip, moving readers through a history of philosophy and an exploration of “quality” (an object of contemplation). While Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry into Values received over one hundred rejection letters and no one expected it to have much of a shelf life, the book initially sold at least 5 million copies worldwide and has consistently appeared on best seller lists.

Pirsig served as vice-President of the Minnesota Zen Mediation Center and spent two additional years on its board of directors. But while he was familiar with motorcycles and Zen Buddhism (as well as electroshock therapy, which is also chronicled in the book), Robert Pirsig said that his seminal book shouldn’t be considered “factual” about either. The same can be said about his follow-up book, Lila: An Inquiry into Morals, which recounts a sailboat trip down the Hudson River. Lila picks up where the philosophical road trip left off and explores “quality” as Static or Dynamic and divides everything in the universe into four “static values” (inorganic, biological, social, and intellectual). His exploration about morals is also an exploration of perspective, and how perspectives change over time. Even though biographies indicate that a 1974 Guggenheim Fellowship “allowed” him to write the second book and the philosophical discourse into metaphysics is continuous, there is a seventeen-year gap between the books.

In the 17 years between his books, Pirsig divorced his first wife, married his second wife, lost his oldest son (who had been featured in the first book), and had a daughter. His son Christopher was killed in a mugging outside the San Francisco Zen Meditation Center. Pirsig would eventually explain that one of the reasons he and his second wife had their daughter Nell was because they believed she was a continuation of Chris’s “life pattern.” In other words, Nell was part of the same trip (metaphysically speaking, of course.)

“The truth knocks on the door and you say, “Go away, I’m looking for the truth,” and so it goes away. Puzzling.”

– quoted from Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry into Values by Robert Pirsig

Please join me for a 65-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Sunday, September 6th) at 2:30 PM. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. PLEASE NOTE: Zoom 5.0 is in effect. If you have not upgraded, you will need to give yourself extra time to log into Zoom. You can always request an audio recording of this practice (or any practice) via email or a comment below.

Today’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.

“You look at where you’re going and where you are and it never makes sense, but then you look back at where you’ve been and a pattern seems to emerge. And if you project forward from that pattern, then sometimes you can come up with something.”

– quoted from Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry into Values by Robert Pirsig

“The thing to understand is that if you are going to reform society you don’t start with cops. And if you are going to reform intellect you don’t start with psychiatrists. If you don’t like our present social system or intellectual system the best thing you can do with either cops or psychiatrists is stay out of their way. You leave them till last.”

– quoted from Lila: An Inquiry into Morals by Robert Pirsig

“The place to improve the world is first in one’s own heart and head and hands, and then work outward from there.”

– quoted from Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry into Values by Robert Pirsig

### ZOOOOOOM ###

The Cagey Truth About Nothing September 5, 2020

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Art, Books, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Faith, Japa-Ajapa, Life, Meditation, Music, Mysticism, Philosophy, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.
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“Every moment is an echo of nothing.”

 

– John Cage

Listen. Do that 90-second thing. Just for a moment, be still and be quiet.

Notice what you hear.

Notice what you see.

Notice what you feel.

Because, as long as you are alive, these things are always happening.

“Everything we do is music.”

“The world is teeming; anything can happen.”

 

– John Cage

We refer to the absence of something as nothing, but in actuality there is always something. Our understanding of nothing or emptiness is based on our perception and awareness of the truth. Zen Buddhism, which John Cage practiced, focuses on self-restraint, meditation, insight into the nature of the mind and the nature of things, and the personal expression of this insight – especially as it benefits others. This, truly, parallels the focus of the yoga philosophy. It’s tricky, cagey even; however, if we pay attention we start to notice that the truth about nothing leads to the truth about everything – and Patanjali tells us that being dedicated to to the truth leads to everything.

Yoga Sūtra 2.36: satyapratişţhāyām kriyāphalāśrayatvam

 

– “When a yogi is established in truthfulness, actions begin to bear fruit. [Truth is the foundation for fruitful action.]”

Born today in 1912, John Cage was an artist and composer who’s most well-known work is often misinterpreted. Even as musicians – even heavy metal musicians – who understand the piece take it on, there is often a level of interpretation and improvisation that changes the tenure of the piece. Some say Mr. Cage would approve of such things. Others say otherwise, but the truth of the matter is that he was a student not only of art and music, but also of Zen Buddhism, Indian philosophy, chance, and (yes) improvisation. He turned more towards music than art because more people commented on his music and, in some ways, music was harder for him. He combined his two art forms by composing music for “prepared piano,” a piano that had been altered with blocks, pins, and other objects – and essentially turned into a percussion instrument. He also collaboration with his partner Merce Cunningham, the choreographer, and spent years composing via the I Ching, a resource for divination.

Divination comes from the Latin word for “to foresee, to foretell, to predict, to prophesy” and, it is related to the Latin word for “divine,” it can be translated as “to be inspired by God.” It is, like randomly opening a page in the Bible or your favorite book, a way to gain insight into a particular situation. The I Ching or Book of Changes (sometimes translated as Classic of Changes) is an ancient resource for Chinese divination and one of the oldest Chinese classics. It became one of the “Five Classics” in the 2nd Century B.C. and has provided influenced art, literature, philosophy, and religion around the world since the Western Zhou period (1000 – 750 B. C.).

The text is the primary reference for interpreting a sequence of hexagrams which can be formed with numbers or by throwing coins containing the symbols for “yin” (a broken line) or “yang” (an unbroken line). Just like other users of Chinese divination, John Cage would form a question, throw the coins, and then create a musical interpretation of the resulting hexagon sequence and its corresponding message. While he had previously composed “by chance,” using the I Ching became his standard method of composing music after one of his students gave him a copy of the sacred text in 1951. In a 1957 lecture, he described music as “purposeless play” and “a way of waking up to the very life we’re living.”

“If something is boring after 2 minutes, try it for 4. If still boring, then 8. Then 16. Then 38. Eventually one discovers that it is not boring at all.”

 

– John Cage

It was also in 1951 that Mr. Cage had two other highly influential experiences. His friend and colleague Robert Rauschenberg produced a series of white paintings which appeared to be “blank” canvases, but which actually changed based on lighting and the shadows of the people viewing them. Around this same time, Mr. Cage spent some time in an anechoic chamber at Harvard University. The chamber was designed so that every part of the room absorbed sound, rather than reflecting it, so that it was meant to be completely silent and externally sound-proof.  He expected to hear silence but, instead, he heard a high pitched sound and a low pitched sound. The engineer in charge of the room told him the high pitch was his nervous system and the low pitch was his blood circulation. Instead of silence, he was treated to the music of his own existence.

There is no such thing as an empty space or an empty time. There is always something to see, something to hear. In fact, try as we may to make a silence, we cannot.”

 

– John Cage

Please join me for a 90-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Saturday, September 5th) at 12:00 PM. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. Give yourself extra time to log in if you have not upgraded to Zoom 5.0.

Today’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. (FAIR WARNING: The volume on these tracks is quite dynamic, more so on the Spotify list. I love this music, however, I know some folks hate it; so, feel free to “randomly” pick another list or…practice in “silence.”)

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.

Pure Cage

 

“Get yourself out of whatever cage you find yourself.”

 

John Cage

 

### UNCAGED ###

.