Looking Around At All the Believers (the “missing” Saturday post) April 12, 2025

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Books, California, Changing Perspectives, Faith, Healing Stories, Hope, Lent / Great Lent, Life, Music, One Hoop, Pain, Passover, Peace, Philosophy, Poetry, Religion, Suffering, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.
Tags: 988, Ellen Lesser, faith, Gary Soto, Great Week, Holy Week, James Kubicki, kriya yoga, Lazarus of Bethany, Lazarus Saturday, Lent / Great Lent, Maty Ezraty, Passion Week, Passover, Pesach, Rabbi Mordechai Becher, Shiva, shiv’ah, Stuart Chase, The Gospel According to John, Yoga Sutra 2.20, שִׁבְעָה, שבעה
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“Chag Sameach!” to everyone celebrating Passover! Peace and many blessings to everyone and especially to celebrating and/or observing Lent & Great Lent on Lazarus Saturday!

This is “missing” post for Saturday, April 12^th, which was Lazarus Saturday in the Orthodox & Western Christian traditions, as well as erev Pesach (the eve before Passover). This post contains new and “renewed” content. NOTE: There are passing references to death and dying. 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.

“As far as I can tell, daughter, it works like this:
You buy bread from a grocery, a bag of apples
From a fruit stand, and what coins
Are passed on helps others buy pencils, glue,
Tickets to a movie in which laughter
Is thrown into their faces.
If we buy a goldfish, someone tries on a hat.
If we buy crayons, someone walks home with a broom.
A tip, a small purchase here and there,
And things just keep going. I guess.”

— quoted from the poem “How Things Work” by Gary Soto

Born today April 12, 1952, in Fresno, California, Gary Soto is a poet, novelist, playwright, essayist, memoirist, and film director/producer, who also writes literature for children and young adults. He was the first Mexican-American to earn a Master of Fine Arts (MFA, 1976), at the University of California, Irvine, and taught at both the University of California, Berkeley, and at the University of California, Riverside. In addition to being a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award, he won Before Columbus Foundation’s American Book Award for his memoir Living Up the Street (1985); the 2014 Phoenix Award for his children’s book Jesse (1994); and a Nation/Discovery Award and the Levinson Award from Poetry. Eight of his books have been translated into French, Hindi, Italian, Japanese, Korean, and Spanish.

Mr. Soto is a two time recipient of both the California Library Association’s John and Patricia Award and fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts. Additional accolades have come from his work on movies like The No-Guitar Blues, based on the story of the same name in his collection Baseball in April and other stories (1990) and the movie based on his book The Pool Party (1993, illustrated by Robert Casilla). He wrote the libretto to the Los Angeles Opera’s Nerdlandia and has also collaborated with the illustrator Susan Guevara on the bilingual Chato series (about “the coolest low-riding cat in East L.A… and his best friend, Novio Boy”).

Gary Soto’s work mirrors the Mexican-American communities of his youth (and his adulthood) as well as his early fascination with English (Western canon) literature, which did not reflect his lived experience. His parents were immigrants and day labors. When his father died, when Mr. Soto was five years old, the future award-winning author worked in the fields in San Joaquin and had little time for school. Later, he worked in factories of Fresno to help support his family. By high school, however, he had discovered his love of fiction and poetry and wanted to create literary worlds that felt like home. He mixed dirt with philosophy; English with Spanish; reality with fantasy. His fiction and poetry have the feel and texture of real life being lived in the moment or, they are, as he puts it, “portraits of people in the rush of life.”

Like so many others, I love what Ellen Lesser, in Voice Literary Supplement, called, “the immediate, human presence that breathes through the lines [by Gary Soto].” Another thing I love about Gary Soto’s portraits is that they illustrate how we are all connected, how our stories are all interconnected, and how it all comes back to what we believe.

“How strange that we can begin at any time.
With two feet we get down the street.
With a hand we undo the rose.
With an eye we lift up the peach tree
And hold it up to the wind – white blossoms
At our feet. Like today. I started”

— quoted from the poem “Looking Around, Believing” by Gary Soto

As someone who loves stories and loves yoga, I often quote Maty Ezraty who said, “A good sequence is like a good story. There is a beginning (an introduction), the middle (the heart of the story), and the end (the conclusion).” However, as I have pointed out before, life is a little different in that we meet each other in the middle of our stories and simultaneously progress forward and back (as we learn about each other’s back stories). We are also, simultaneously, living the middle, beginning, and end of some part of our stories — while also telling the beginning, middle, and end of some part of our stories — every time we inhale and every time we exhale. As Gary Soto put it, “We’re here in the day. One step, / A simple hello, and we’re involved.”

When we are sharing our stories with each other, we pick where we begin. Where we begin, when we tell a story, is based on what we know/understand about the story and may change the way the story is understood (by ourselves and others).

Elements of the following have previously been posted.

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

— quote attributed to Stuart Chase, economist, social theorist, author

Like life, the various religious rituals and traditions currently being observed around the world are stories of cause and effect. In fact, the order and arrangement of things like Great Lent, Lent, and the Passover Seder intentionally heighten our awareness of cause and effect. Our physical practice of yoga, regardless of the style or tradition, can do the same thing. In fact, just like with the associated religious stories, where we start matters, because where start determines how things unfold and how the story is told. How the story is told reinforces the message and plays a part in what we remember — and in what we believe.

I generally associate the aforementioned Stuart Chase quote with the idea expressed in Yoga Sūtra 2.20, which indicates that we “[understand] only what the mind-intellect shows us.” All of which makes me wonder: What happens when we start in a different place?

For instance, what happens when three different people/communities, get together and tell the same story from their different points of view? In some ways, that is happening right now as today (Saturday, April 12^th) is Lazarus Saturday in Orthodox Christian traditions (and, technically, in Western Christian traditions) as well as the day before Passover in Jewish traditions. It simultaneously marks a beginning, middle, and end of these observations with overlapping stories. While they don’t always coincide the way they would have historically, this year’s observations of Great/Passion Week in the Orthodox Christian traditions, Holy/Passion Week in the Western Christian traditions, and Passover in the Jewish traditions all overlap this upcoming week — and today is the “eve/erev” or moment of anticipation for all that is to come.

“As spring is nature’s season of hope, so Easter is the Church’s season of hope. Hope is an active virtue. It’s more than wishful thinking….. My hope in the Resurrection is not an idle hope like wishing for good weather but an active hope. It requires something on my part – work. Salvation is a gift from God for which I hope, but Saint Paul told the Philippians to ‘work out your salvation with fear and trembling’ (2:12). My hope in the resurrection and eternal life in heaven requires work on my part.”

— quoted from A Year of Daily Offerings by Rev. James Kubicki

Passover (in the Jewish traditions) and the story of Jesus (in the Christian traditions) are stories of hope, suffering, and the end of suffering. These stories overlap, historically, because Jesus was a rabbi whose last week of life — according to the Gospels — was spent travelling home for Passover and preparing for the betrayal, crucifixion, temptation, death, and resurrection. These stories, like so many of the holy and auspicious stories told this time of year, feature periods of waiting.

For instance, in the Jewish tradition, a notably period of waiting occurs after someone dies and their loved ones are “sitting shiva.” The Hebrew word shiva ( שִׁבְעָה ) comes from shiv’ah ( שבעה ), which means “seven”, and it is a seven-day period of mourning. The rituals, traditions, and prayers associated with shiva formalize the grieving process and also provide a container for people to express compassion. It can also be a way to express hope.

In the Gospel According to John (11:1 – 45), Jesus received the news that Lazarus was sick, but then waited (until Lazarus died) before traveling to Bethany. The text is very clear that Lazarus had been dead (or dead and buried) for four days. Historically speaking, and given that there are seven-day periods of mourning depicted in the Torah, Mary and Martha (and all of their friends) would have been “sitting shiva” when Jesus and the disciples arrived in Bethany. To be clear, they were waiting for Jesus and then they were waiting for the end of the mourning period.

While Lazarus Saturday is not always highlighted in Western Christian traditions the way it is in Orthodox Christian traditions, there are several parts of the story that are critical. First, Jesus waited (and knew when Lazarus died). Second, the description of how Lazarus was buried — in a cave with a stone in front — matches the descriptions of how Jesus was buried. Third, Jesus asks the sisters if they believe in him (and ask for verbal confirmation) — which was the whole reason he waited. Finally, it is notable that news of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead reached Jerusalem before Jesus arrived home for Passover.

Why did the news travel faster than Jesus? According to the Gospel, it is because he waited… in the desert — and that period of waiting in the desert is commemorated by people who observe Lent and Great Lent. However, those are not the only periods of waiting in the Christian liturgy. Remember, after his crucifixion and death, Jesus was buried, much like Lazarus — and his mother, Mary, and his followers waited. (But, that’s a story for another Saturday.)

Meanwhile, people who are preparing to observe Passover are commemorating the time(s) in Exodus when the Jewish people were waiting to be freed from slavery in Egypt.

Looking around, at all the believers — and their story/stories — notice how these periods of waiting are not only periods of hope and faith, they are also periods of time when people are expected to do something to actively express their faith (and their hope). Notice how they are actively participating in the elimination of their own suffering/sorrow.

“First and foremost, we believe creation of the world, G-d created a world in which he wanted the human being to actually be able to do something – that is to say, to exercise free will, to be like G-d, meaning to be a creator, not to be lab rats…. He wants us to have a relationship with Him. But to have a relationship with G-d requires that I have an exercise of my free will…. Free will means an environment in which not necessarily do I always have pleasure when I make the right decisions and not necessarily does someone always suffer when they make the wrong decision. Free will is having real power to create stuff. Free will is having real power to alleviate suffering.”

— Rabbi Mordechai Becher, in vlog explaining one of several reasons why suffering exists

Saturday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “04112020 LSPW”]

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).

### What Do You Believe? ###

“A good sequence is like a good story. There is a beginning (an introduction), the middle (the heart of the story), and the end (the conclusion)”

— Maty Ezraty

People often tell me that one of the things they like about my classes are the stories, as well as the way the poses and the music tell the stories. They may even wonder why I tell such stories. Bottom line: I come from a long line of teachers who think the practice is a way to tell our stories and also a way to process our stories, every time we inhale, every time we exhale. It’s a way to go deeper into our stories.

But, since we all have different stories, we need to get on the same page — and I just happen to have the privilege of turning that page.

Today is a day when I normally tell the stories of four very famous storytellers born on March 22^nd. These storytellers tell/told their stories in different ways. However, the storytellers themselves have something in common — other than the fact that they are all, as it turns out, the same gender and race and share the same profession and birthday. They all know/knew how to tell a good story.

Regardless of if you read the adult novels or children’s books of one of my parents’ favorite authors; the poetry of one of my favorite poets; or listen to the brilliant lyrics and music of the two composers on the list, you will find that they follow a simple structure. It is the same structure we follow in the practice; a structure containing the three parts highlighted by Maty Ezraty and, also, a Chekhovian promise (which we’ll get to in the end).

As I said before, today is a day when I normally tell the stories of four storytellers. (I have shifted, once or twice, to tell holiday stories.) However, this year, I feel compelled to start with the story of a fifth storyteller — and his story comes with it’s own Chekhovian promise.

“I would like to either pick up the mantle or stand next to my partner and hold the torch as we, you know, run into the Olympic arena of this society and discourse. Because aren’t we losing, Kelly, discourse? It’s black or it’s white, and that’s not the way the world works. We live in a gray world, and I want to tell gray stories.”

— Keegan-Michael Key, quoted from the (July 13, 2017) NPR interview entitled “‘You’re Never Too Old To Screw Up’: Keegan-Michael Key On ‘Friends From College’” by Kelly McEvers, Anjuli Sastry Krbechek

Born today in 1961, in Southfield, Michigan, Keegan-Michael Key is an award-winning comedian, actor, producer, and writer who has said, “I have always, or for the most part, identified myself as a biracial person.” So, already, he is a little different from the other storytellers. Also, while some of the others believe in comedy — and include comedic elements in their work, Mr. Key is the only comedian on my list (this year). He’s also the only one of these storytellers that uses his whole being (mind and body) to tell a story, especially when he is impersonating someone (like Charles Barkley, Michael Jordan, Phylicia Rashād, or Eva Longoria’s Desperate Housewives character Gabrielle Solis)

In addition to starring in movies, television shows, music videos, and video games, Keegan-Michael Key co-created and co-starred in the sketch comedy series Key & Peele (with Jordan Peele, the aforementioned partner). The Shakespearean-trained actor appeared in the musical comedy Schmigadoon! and onstage as Horatio in the Public Theater’s 2017 production Hamlet and as Gerald in the 2017 Broadway premiere of Meteor Shower (by Steve Martin). During the 2015 White House Correspondents’ Dinner, he brought his Key & Peele character Luther (then-President Barack Obama’s “anger translator”) to life. He has also appeared as an actor during the annual fundraiser for Young Storytellers [Foundation], which features work written by elementary, middle, and high school storytellers.

“Don’t you love farce?
My fault, I fear
I thought that you’d want what I want
Sorry, my dear
But where are the clowns?
Quick, send in the clowns
Don’t bothеr, they’re herе”

— quoted from the song “Send in the Clowns” from the musical A Little Night Music, music and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim, book by Hugh Wheeler

For Those Who Missed It: The following four profiles have been slightly updated since 2020.

Stephen Sondheim (b. 1930, in New York City, NY) was a legendary musical theater composer and lyrics, as well as an award-winning film composer. His accolades include 8 Tony Awards (more than any other composer), 8 Grammy Awards, a Pulitzer Prize, an Academy Award, a Laurence Olivier Award, and a 2015 Presidential Medal of Freedom. In all my time working in theater, I can’t say that I ever worked on any of Sondheim’s musicals (or the musicals of our final birthday composer), but I’ve seen my fair share of both their works — and can definitely sing along.

Also born in New York City, NY, in 1941, poet Billy Collins has been called “The most popular poet in America” and has served as United States Poet Laureate (2001 – 2003) and New York State Poet (2004 – 2006). Collins considers “humor a doorway into the serious” and started his poem “Picnic, Lightning” by quoting Vladimir Nabokov. In Lolita, the protagonist says, “My very photogenic mother died in a freak accident (picnic, lightning)…”

The poem’s title is also the title of a collection of poems which my friend Mimi gave me in a moment when I was overwhelmed by grief. Fast forward almost a decade and, as if in a poem, I was dancing with Billy Collins on Nicollet Island and giving him a piece of Collins-inspired poetry. Even now, I can feel it…I can feel it…the joy of the moment, the joy of being alive; which fits in with his secret theory.

In a 2001 interview with The Paris Review, Billy Collins said, “I have a secret theory that people who are addicted to reading are almost trying to recreate the joy, the comfortable joy of being read to as a child…. Being read to as a child is one of the great experiences in life.”

Our second birthday composer is Baron Lloyd-Webber, or more properly styled, The Lord Lloyd-Webber…better known as the EGOT Andrew Lloyd Webber (no hyphen). Born today in 1948 (in Kensington, London), he was originally knighted in the 1992, given a life peerage in 1997, and appointed a Knight Companion of the Order of Garter (KG) in 2024. He has composed 21 musicals, a song cycle, a set of variations, 2 film scores, and a Latin Requiem Mass. He is an EGOT because he has won an Emmy Award, 3 Grammy Awards, an Academy Award (Oscar), and 6 Tony Awards — as well as 4 Laurence Olivier Awards and a plethora of other awards.

James Patterson (b. 1947, in Newburgh, NY), is a bestselling novelist and children’s book author whose books can always be found in my parents bookshelves. Doesn’t matter if it is mystery, suspense, romance, or science, Patterson keeps you in the moment and keeps a Chekhovian promise (which is fast approaching). One of his protagonists is a 12-year old orphan named Max Einstein. Like her namesake, this Einstein is a genius with wild (in her case red) curly hair. She is told that her story combined with her emotional and intellectual quotients are why she is considered the world’s “last great hope.”

“‘When you convinced me not to quit, you said, and I quote, “If we are to help save the human race, we must recognize the humanity in all, no matter their station in life.”’”

— Charl speaking to Max and Isabl in Max Einstein: The Genius Experiment by James Patterson and Chris Grabenstein

The “Season for Nonviolence” principle of the day (for March 22^nd) was “advocacy” — and all of the aforementioned storytellers have been advocates for literacy and storytelling. For his part, James Patterson has donated over 300 million books to school-aged children and the military, over $70 million to support education, and endowed over 5,000 scholarships for teachers. In 2020, he renewed a partnership with Scholastic Book Clubs and pledged $2.5 million to help teachers build their classroom libraries.

At one time, James Patterson was also seen as an advocate for diversity — in part because he insisted that a Black actor play one of his most popular characters, Alex Cross (who is African American in the novels). However, people’s perceptions changed a little, in June 2022, when Mr. Patterson was quoted (in the United Kingdom’s Sunday Times) as saying that “he and his fellow ‘white males’ were subject to ‘racism’ that prevented them from getting writing jobs. ‘Can you get a job? Yes. Is it harder? Yes.’ He continued by saying, ‘It’s even harder for older writers. You don’t meet many 52-year-old white males’ in film, theater, TV or publishing.”

The award-winning author apologized and issued a retraction two days after the interview was published; however, both came after significant backlash and factchecking that showed there were no gray areas here: his claims just didn’t match reality.

“According to the 2022 Hollywood Diversity Report, out of the 251 screenwriters for top box office feature films in 2021, nearly 68% were white; 47% were white men, specifically. A 2021 Hollywood Diversity Report showed that during the 2019-2020 season, out of the 1,214 broadcast script writers, only 26.4% were people of color, and white men made up 46.1% of the total. A similar trend extends across the scripted cable and digital industries.

In theater, according to the most recent Asian American Performers Action Coalition Visibility Report, nearly 90% of shows produced on Broadway and 76% of the shows by major New York nonprofit theater companies — which collectively set the theatrical agenda for the rest of the nation — were written by white playwrights. And multiple reports have highlighted the issue of men outnumbering women playwrights. For the book publishing industry, the numbers by race are just as staggeringly imbalanced, as a 2020 New York Times report showed. In 2018, nearly nine out of 10 books published by major houses were by white writers — which, based on the relatively even gender divide among authors, suggests that about 45% of the white writers published by major houses in the U.S. are men.

So, across these creative fields, white men — about 30% of the American population — consistently receive nearly half of all writing opportunities.”

“Out of the 44 co-authors I found in his front-line novel franchises — the ones aimed at global bestseller status — I only identified one woman of color: Rachel Howzell Hall (a bestselling crime queen herself and a former board member of the Mystery Writers of America). Nine others were white women.”

— quoted from the (June 16, 2022) NBC News “Think: Opinion, Analysis, Essays” article entitled “James Patterson’s carefully worded apology after ‘racism’ claim is an eyebrow raiser: The author said that he strongly supported diversity of voices, but that would be hard to tell looking at many of the co-authors he’s chosen to work with.” by Jeff Yang

Which brings us back to those Chekhovian promises.

It was Anton Chekov who said that if there is a rifle (or a pistol) hanging on the wall in the first chapter/act, it must go off in the second or third. He told another playwright, “It’s wrong to make promises you don’t mean to keep.”

Whenever we step on the mat, there’s a part of us that is making a promise. Whenever, I put together a sequence there’s a part of me that thinks about that promise, as well as about that second Sondheim song (“Putting it together…bit by bit…piece by piece”) and Maty Ezraty’s sequencing advice about the middle (the heart) of the story. I consider how can I build up to a big heart opener and how we each need to process our own personal story in order to not only lift and open our hearts, but to also support our lifted and open hearts — especially in a time when it is so easy to close off.

When I think about the fact that the practice is always a way to tell our stories — as well as a way to process our stories, I think about the music (and how I can use the music to tell our stories). The (original) March 22^nd playlist not only tells the stories of some great storytellers celebrating birthdays today (as I intended) and is a way to process our current life-plot (as I intended), it also reflects my story as a lover of stories. At some point, I plan to remix it to include a little Schmigadoon!. In the meantime, however, the absence of a specific track for Keegan-Michael Key just highlights the fact that the original list was all the same sex, gender, and race.¹

“A poet can feel free, in my estimation, to write a poem for himself. Or a painter can paint a painting for himself. You can write a short story for yourself. But for me, comedy by its nature is communal. If other people don’t get it, I’m not sure why you are doing it. I think the same can be said for being offensive, for no other reason than being offensive. Me personally, it boggles my mind.”

— Keegan-Michael Key, quoted from the (Feb 1, 2012) MovieWeb interview entitled “Keegan-Michael Key and Jordan Peele Talk Key & Peele Series Premiere [Exclusive]” by
B. Alan Orange

In some ways, practicing yoga is simultaneously like writing a poem, painting a painting, writing a short story, and writing comedy. You do it for yourself and — especially in a group class — it is also communal. As Maty Ezraty said, “Practicing yoga is a privilege. And with this privilege comes a duty to be kind, to share a smile, and to offer yoga from the mat into the rest of your life.”

Here is a mini-practice (5 minutes) which you can use it as your whole practice as the beginning/introduction portion of your practice and finish with a deeper back bend (even if it’s the same back bend — just with more awareness, more breath, and more smile.

Saturday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “03222020 Storytellers”]

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).

NOTES:
¹Just to clarify, since someone asked after class: While there are other storytellers I could have highlighted, the original focus was always the last 4 storytellers referenced above. I didn’t replace anyone, just added a storyteller and adjusted the narrative accordingly. Similarly, the playlist has room, time, and space, for another song (or two).

### Enjoy Your Story & Share Your Stories ###

How The Stories Unfold (the “missing” Sunday post with links, for context) March 26, 2024

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Books, Changing Perspectives, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Faith, Gandhi, Healing Stories, Hope, Karma, Lent / Great Lent, Life, Music, One Hoop, Pain, Peace, Philosophy, Purim, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, Ramadan, Religion, Suffering, Tragedy, Wisdom, Yoga.
Tags: Aaron Koller, Clark Olsen, Dr. Susannah Heschel, faith, Holy Week, James Reeb, Lent / Great Lent, Lyndon B. Johnson, March for Our Lives, Maty Ezraty, Orloff Miller, Palm Sunday, Passion Sunday, Passion Week, Psalms, Purim, Richard Goodwin, Søren Kierkegaard, Season for Nonviolence, Season of Non-violence, Selma, Selma to Montgomery, Tehillim, The Gospel According to Matthew
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“Ramadān Mubarak, Blessed Ramadān!” to anyone observing the holy month of Ramadān. Many blessings to all, and especially to those observing Purim, Holi, Passion Week / Holy Week, and/or Great Lent throughout this “Season for Nonviolence” and during all other seasons!

This is the “missing” post for Sunday, March 24^th, which was Palm Sunday (in Western Christianity) and Purim (in some Jewish communities). Although it was also Holi in some communities, I do not reference Holi until the Monday night practice. There are passing references to domestic terrorism and violence (but no explicit details). You can request an audio recording of a related practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.

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

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

“A good sequence is like a good story. There is a beginning (an introduction), the middle (the heart of the story), and the end (the conclusion)”

— Maty Ezraty

This time of year is all about the stories. There are so many stories, from so many cultures, and this is a time of year when I typically use the practice to tell an important story. This year, in particular, I want you to take a moment to consider how a story, any story, unfolds. Consider that as the story unfolds, there’s another story that unfolds — actually, a host of other stories unfold. Because we all bring something to the mat. We each bring our own story and our part of our collective stories.

So, as the story I tell unfolds through the practice your stories also unfolds, every time we inhale and every time we exhale.

In some ways, the story and the practice unfold in a linear fashion — they have all the parts that Maty Ezraty said can be found in a good story and a good practice. However, we are all meeting in the middle of our stories.

“It is perfectly true, as the philosophers say, that life must be understood backwards. But they forget the other proposition, that it must be lived forwards.”

— quoted from Journals (IV A 164), 1843 by Søren Kierkegaard

I have found that one of the perfect places to look back while moving forward is in a practice that allows us to go deeper into our middles.

This Sunday was a day when I typically tell you a story. But, this particular Sunday (March 24^th) there wasn’t just one story or 2 stories. There were actually 3 (or more) stories. Again, while it might have made sense to start at the beginning (chronologically). It also made sense to start where we are, right in the middle, and go backwards and then forwards again.

So that’s what we’re going to did.

“‘I will enlighten you and instruct you which way [to go]; I will wink My eye to you.’”

— King David, quoted from Tehillim – Psalms (32:8)

“Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?”

— The Gospel According to Matthew (6:26, NIV)

On March 24, 2018, 1.2 million people in the United States and around the world took part in the March for Our Lives demonstration against gun violence. The non-violent protest was in response to the mass shooting (on Valentine’s Day 2018) that killed 17 people and (physically) injured 17 others at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida. The primary protest event took place in Washington, D. C. and, like so many other “marches” on Washington it was inspired by the Civil Rights Movement in the 1960’s, which were inspired by the non-violent protestors who participated in the Salt Satyagraha in March 1930.

Three of those Civil Rights marches started in Selma, Alabama in March 1965. They were in direct response to the murder of activist and deacon Jimmie Lee Jackson. The first of the Selma marches, on March 7^th, was led by Reverend Hosea Williams and (the future congressman) John Lewis. Horrific images from that “Sunday, Bloody, Sunday” march were televised all over the world. The second march, two days later, was led by the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. It became known as “Turnaround (or Turnback) Tuesday.” In addition to Dr. King, some of the people who had marched and been attacked on the 7^th, were joined by people who had seen the images from the first march and answered MLK’s call to action. Included in that group were Unitarian Universalist ministers and activists Reverend James Reeb, Reverend Clark Olsen and Reverend Orloff Miller. While the images televised around the world on March 9^th were more “peaceful,” the ministers (who were all white) were attacked by three white men. Reverend Reeb, who had spent his entire adult life working for civil rights, died on March 11, 1965.

Neither of those first two Selma marches made it past the Edmund Pettus Bridge. In between the second and the third marches, President Lyndon B. Johnson gave his “The American Promise” speech (also known as the “We Shall Overcome” speech) a joint session of the United States Congress and Judge Frank Minis Johnson (no relation to the president) decided in Williams v. Wallace, 240 F. Supp. 100 (M.D. Ala. 1965) that the marchers were exercising their 1^st Amendment rights and should be allowed to do so without interference from anyone.

Four days after Judge Johnson’s decision, 8,000 people gathered at Brown Chapel AME Church in Selma, Alabama, and started the walk that would lead them to the capital in Montgomery Alabama. By the time the movement reached the City of St. Jude, on March 24^th, approximately 25,000 people were participating in the protest. One of those people was Viola Liuzzo, a Detroit mother of five who volunteered to drive people back to their vehicles in Selma. Like Reverend Reeb, she was murdered after the peaceful protest.

“For my father, though, the march was not simply a political demonstration, but a religious occasion. He saw it as a revival of prophetic Judaism’s political activism and also of the traditions of Hasidism, a Jewish pietistic revival movement that arose in the late eighteenth century, according to which walking could be a spiritual experience.

He said it reminded him of the message of the prophets, whose primary concern was social injustice, and of his Hasidic forebears, for whom compassion for the suffering of other people defined a religious person.”

— quoted from an article about the 40^th Anniversary of the Selma-Montgomery marches, by Dr. Susannah Heschel

As I’ve mentioned before, not everyone who marched from Selma to Montgomery was African American. Neither was everyone Christian. So, this Sunday, while some people remembering those marches may have also been celebrating Palm Sunday (in the Western Christian traditions), others were also observing Great Lent (in the Orthodox traditions), or the holy month of Ramadān, or celebrating Holi or Purim (which started at sunset on Saturday night).

On Sunday, in addition to referencing the stories of the marches, I told the story of Jesus returning to Jerusalem for Passover and the story of Queen Esther. Rather than make this a super-sized post, check out the following links about the Selma marches, Palm Sunday, and Purim:

Keeping the Overcome Promise (the “missing” Wednesday post)

PASSION & PEACE: 2019 Kiss My Asana Offering #14

FTWMI: Winning the Lottery, with some Powerball® thoughts (the “missing” Monday post)

As you take note of how the stories unfold, notice also that the stories (even the modern stories) are rooted in people’s religious beliefs — specifically in monotheistic beliefs and the belief that someone or something is looking out for people. There is also, in each story, suffering and a desire to be free of suffering. While some might say that the principals in each story want to be saved, they are very different from the person in the parable or cartoon who is waiting to be saved. These people are aware that they must do something — grab the proverbial lifesaver or rope — in order to be free of their suffering.

In the decision to proceed in a non-violent manner, there is also the awareness that how we do things matters as much as what we do.

“In Selma as elsewhere we seek and pray for peace. We seek order. We seek unity. But we will not accept the peace of suppressed rights, or the order imposed by fear, or the unity that stifles protest. For peace cannot be purchased at the cost of liberty.

In Selma tonight, as in every city, we are working for just and peaceful settlement.”

— quoted from “Special Message to the Congress on Voting Rights and the American Promise,” original draft by Richard Goodwin; delivered by President Lyndon B. Johnson, March 15, 1965

Sunday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “Palm, Purim, Selma 2024”]

“A Talmudic comment (in B. Hullin 139b) playfully asks, ‘What is the source for Esther in the Torah?’ The answer given is that Esther was foretold in Deuteronomy 31:18: ‘I will indeed hide (haster astir) my face on that day.’ In part this is a pun, linking the name Esther to the Hebrew phrase ‘I will indeed hide’ (haster astir), but in part it is a serious theological claim: where did the Torah foretell a story with no God?”

— quoted from “8. Diaspora revisions: rethinking Exodus and rethinking God – Entering the fray: Esther as a political book” in Esther in Ancient Jewish Thought by Aaron Koller

Errata: The original post contained the incorrect first name for Judge Frank Minis Johnson.

### LET US GO FORTH IN PEACE ###

Take Another Look at Yourself (the “missing” Sunday post, which is a “renewed” post ) March 30, 2023

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Art, Books, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Faith, Healing Stories, Hope, Lent / Great Lent, Life, Love, Music, Mysticism, One Hoop, Pain, Peace, Philosophy, Poetry, Ramadan, Religion, Robert Frost, Suffering, Tennessee Williams, Traditional Chinese Medicine, Wisdom, Writing, Yin Yoga, Yoga.
Tags: B.K.S. Iyengar, Bramaviharas, Chaitra Navaratri, chakra, chesed, gevurah, Great Lent, heart, kabbalah, Lent / Great Lent, Maty Ezraty, parighasana, Patricia Clarkson, Ramadan, Ramadān, Robert Frost, Season for Nonviolence, Season of Non-violence, sefirot, Skandamata, Swami Rama, Tennessee Williams
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“Nine days and nine nights of blessings and happiness if you are celebrating Chaitra Navaratri!” “Ramadān Mubarak, Blessed Ramadān!” to anyone who is observing the holy month of Ramadān. Blessings to anyone observing Lent or Great Lent! Many blessings to all during this “Season for Non-violence” and all other seasons!

This is the “missing” post for Sunday, March 26^th. It is also a revised (and expanded) from 2019, with an itty bit from 2020 – so, literally another look. Some links in the post connect to sites outside of the blog. 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). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.

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

“Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,

That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,

And spills the upper boulders in the sun;

And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.”

– quoted from the poem “Mending Wall” by Robert Frost

“The violets in the mountains have broken the rocks. The world thirsts after sympathy, compassion, love.”

– quoted from the play Camino Real by Tennessee Williams (The first sentence is also the epitaph on his grave.)

There are people in the world who will say you haven’t read poetry until you read Robert Frost, and Southerners in the world who will say you haven’t seen a play until you’ve seen Tennessee Williams. Born 37 years and over 2,000 miles apart, these two literary icons shared a birthday (3/26) and way with words. Although, some would say they used their words in different ways.

Born in 1874, in San Francisco, California, Robert Frost wrote about things like “a snowy evening,” “mending a wall,” and “the road not taken” – although, in the latter case, people often mistake it for “the road less traveled.” His poems are often as much about perspective as they are about the way we tell a story (and the fact that the way we tell a story can change the story). They also illustrate how the stories we tell (ourselves and the world) are not always about the truth so much as they about what we understand about the world and ourselves.

Born in 1911, in Columbus, Mississippi, Tennessee Williams wrote about emotionally volatile people in the South and from the South. He wrote about characters and circumstances that reflected the emotional turmoil he saw and felt inside himself and all around him. Then, so that the emotional states of the the people and situations could not be ignored (or missed) he reinforced them with the use of props, sound effects, and blocking. In other words, he used the physical to embody the emotional and energetic – and, in doing so, drew the audience into the hearts of the characters.

Even though their mediums and subjects were different, they both wrote in a way that can make you pause, look again…and again. Once or thrice you may even wonder how many ways you can see/interpret/understand what has been said, and how it applies to your life. A good story, regardless of the medium, will make you do that: consider how it applies to your life.

“Something we were withholding made us weak
Until we found out that it was ourselves
We were withholding from our land of living,
And forthwith found salvation in surrender.”

– quoted from the poem “The Gift Outright” by Robert Frost

Every once in a while (as I did last Wednesday and again on Sunday), I mention Maty Ezraty, who was a teacher of teachers and who said that every yoga practice should be like a good story. One of my takeaways from that suggestion has always been that, each part of the mind-body-spirit is like a character in a story. Just like each character has a different purpose and a different point of view, each pose/sequence can give each part of our bodies and minds an opportunity to tell their story. Another takeaway is that everything is leading to and from the heart of the story.

So, let’s start with the hearts.

“What is straight? A line can be straight, or a street, but the human heart, oh, no, it’s curved like a road through mountains.”

– quoted from the play “A Streetcar Named Desire” by Tennessee Williams

Yes, I said, “hearts” – plural. Swami Rama from the Himalayan tradition said that we have three hearts: a physical heart, which for most of us is on the left side; an emotional heart on the opposite side, which for most of us is on the right; and an energetic heart that connects the two. That energetic heart, which some consider a spiritual heart, connects our hearts with all the other hearts around us. Additionally, in yoga and other Eastern healing arts, energy for the heart flows through the arms.

The heart chakra, in yoga (as it comes to us from India) is symbolically and energetically associated with the upper torso, shoulders, arms, hands, and fingers. In Yin Yoga, which is based on Traditional Chinese Medicine, the heart median has three branches, one of which runs down the inner arms into the pinky fingers. According to the Kabbalah, Jewish mysticism, there are 10 Divine attributes (from the Tree of Life) through which G-d is revealed to the world – and 7 of these can be found in the body. Love/loving-kindness (chesed in Hebrew) is associated with the right arm and is balanced by strength (gevurah in Hebrew), which is associated with the left arm.

Just as people contemplate the Divine attributes when they are counting the Omer in some Jewish traditions, people in Buddhist traditions contemplate the Divine abodes (brahmavihārāḥ in Sanskrit), which are heart practices: loving-kindness or benevolence (mettā); compassion (karuṇā); empathetic joy (muditā); and equanimity (upekkhā). In some Indian philosophies (like Yoga), the ability to cultivate a good heart/make friends (suhrit-prapati) and generosity (dana) can also be considered heart practices. On (and off) the mat, we can contemplate these same emotional and energetic aspects of ourselves by bringing awareness to our arms and how we use our arms… to reach out, to embrace, to extend ourselves.

We may notice – as we move through our practice or through our day – how we are expressing our heart or how we are withholding our heart. But, there’s always the possibility that we don’t notice. We may not notice when we are off the mat, because we are distracted. We may not notice on the mat, because we are focused on other parts of the mind-body. This is why it’s important to notice how we move and why we move the way we move – because it all tells a story.

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,”

– quoted from the poem “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost

There are hundreds of poses and hundreds, thousands – maybe even millions – of ways to move into and out of pose. And each one of those ways gives us another way of looking at the story. The tricky thing is that sometimes we keep coming back to the story the same way. But, what happens if we came at things a different way? What happens if we let a different part of our mind-body-spirit take the lead? What happens if our circumstances and understanding of the world changes? What happens if our understanding of ourselves changes?

Sometimes, the practice can be like a favorite story that we read again and again – or re-read, years after the initial reading – and we suddenly see everything from a different perspective. In fact, one of the things I like about the practice is the opportunity to revisit themes and/or sequences and suddenly discover something completely different. It’s also one of the things I love about reading (and watching) great works of art.

“We have to use a spell to make them balance:
“Stay where you are until our backs are turned!”
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of out-door game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, “Good fences make good neighbours.”
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
“Why do they make good neighbours? Isn’t it
Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I’d ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.”

– quoted from the poem “Mending Wall” by Robert Frost

Parighāsana (Gate Pose) stretches the pelvic area and hamstrings, while also engaging the sides of the torso and abdomen eccentrically (up side) and concentrically (down side). According to B.K.S. Iyengar’s Light on Yoga, the pose “keeps the abdominal muscles and organs in condition and the skin around the abdomen will not sag but remain healthy. The sideways spinal movement will help persons suffering from stiff backs.” I find that it is a great way to get into the hips and the legs. Another aspect of the pose is what happens to the heart area – not only physically, but emotionally.

Parighāsana offers us the opportunity to open up the shoulders (physically) and open the gates on all sides of the heart (emotionally and energetically). It also offers some interesting insight into how we sometimes engage the different aspects of our heart. For instances, when I cue and describe the pose in a practice, many people have a tendency to lift the bottom hand up to meet the top hand – rather than extending the upper body down towards the lower hand. To be fair, many people do not have the strength and flexibility to kneel on one leg, stretch out the other leg, and then bend sideways until the top hand lowers down. But, what is interesting is how people deal with the resistance. Initially, they lift the bottom hand up – because it’s easy (and obvious). When I point out that it’s the top hand that needs to reach down, many people will fold in on themselves; essentially closing down and hiding the heart to make the connection. However, the “goal” is to open the gate and to stay open in the process.

“Lonely . . . When so many are lonely as seem to be lonely, it would be inexcusably selfish to be lonely alone.”

– Don Quixote in the Prologue to Camino Real by Tennessee Williams

We all build walls around our hearts. Sometimes we do it for protection, because we have perceived an actual threat. Other times, we build walls, because of fear associated with a perceived threat. That perceived threat might turn out to be an actual threat, but it could also simply be a possibility (or a misperception). Of course, we can also get in the habit of building walls – because it’s what others have done before us, what we’ve been taught, and/or because we have experienced harm in the past. But, even castle walls have gates and drawbridges, a way in and a way out.

When we really pay attention to the ways we engage our heart, on and off the mat, we may find it challenging to open the gate. We may find that we take the easy route – especially when there’s a little awkward balancing, as there is in parighāsana – and/or we may find that we are compromising ourselves (and our hearts) in order to make a connection. One suggestion I make, during the physical practice, is to bend the lifted elbow (so the hand is behind the head) and then use the whole body to rotate the elbow up. This changes the focus and reinforces the idea that we are opening the heart and the side-body. I often sequence a modified side plank after the “Gate Pose,” as a reminder that there can be more than one way to open a gate.

Take a moment to consider a time when you compromised yourself in order to make a connection. How could you have refocused your awareness, energy, and resources in order to reinforce what was important? Could you have made the connection (or a similar connection) in a different way?

In A Streetcar Named Desire, Blanche DuBois says, “I always depended on the kindness of strangers.” Remember, we are all Blanche…but we are also those strangers. Click here for the brief 2020 post about making loving-kind connections.

“It should be of the pleasure of a poem itself to tell how it can. The figure a poem makes. It begins in delight and ends in wisdom. The figure is the same as for love. No one can really hold that the ecstasy should be static and stand still in one place. It begins in delight, it inclines to the impulse, it assumes direction with the first line laid down, it runs a course of lucky events, and ends in a clarification of life–not necessarily a great clarification, such as sects and cults are founded on, but in a momentary stay against confusion.”

– quoted from the essay “The Figure a Poem Makes” by Robert Frost (which served as an introduction to his Collected Poems beginning with the 1939 edition)

Two of my favorite lines from Robert Frost speak of wisdom and delight, and the gift that comes from giving our whole selves. Every time I step on a yoga mat, I experience the wisdom and the delight. I also experience a plethora of gifts. One of those gifts is how the practice affects the mind. In Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Tennessee Williams has Brick acknowledging that he is an alcoholic, but not seeming to want to give up his drinking because, “It’s like a switch, clickin’ off in my head. Turns the hot light off and the cool one on, and all of a sudden there’s peace.” But then, as his father points out to him, there is the morning.

One of the gifts of yoga is that it brings peace without the hangover. It can flip the switch. Another thing to consider is that the practice has a way of opening the heart so we can get to the violets.

“To me, its meaning is simple. The hard, the cold, the oppressive will—at long last—be broken apart by a force that is beautiful, natural, colorful, alive.”

– Patricia Clarkson explaining why she was quoting Tennessee Williams during a 2009 HRC New Orleans Dinner speech

Sunday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.

Errata: The Robert Frost poem is called “Mending Wall” and a link has been embedded for a Winter Solstice post.

### HEART-SUFFICIENT ###

Auspicious and Holy Stories (the “missing” Wednesday post) March 22, 2023

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in 19-Day Fast, Abhyasa, Art, Baha'i, Bhakti, Books, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Faith, Healing Stories, Hope, Kirtan, Lent / Great Lent, Life, Music, Mysticism, New Year, One Hoop, Pain, Philosophy, Ramadan, Religion, Suffering, Vairagya, Wisdom, Women, Yoga.
Tags: Anton Chekhov, Chaitra Navaratri, Durga, Goswami Tulsidas, kriya yoga, kriyā yoga, Lent / Great Lent, Maty Ezraty, Nandi, Nandini, nasheeds, Ramadan, Ramadān, Sami Yusuf, Season for Nonviolence, Season of Non-violence, Shailaputri, Stephen Sondheim, The Gospel According to Luke, The Gospel According to Matthew, Tom Robbins, Tony Vigorito, Ugadi, ummah
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Many blessings to all! “Happy Ugadi, Happy New Year!” to those who are celebrating! “Nine days and nine nights of blessings and happiness if you are celebrating Chaitra Navaratri!” “Ramadān Mubarak, Blessed Ramadān!” to anyone who is observing the holy month of Ramadān. Blessings to anyone observing Lent or Great Lent during this “Season for Non-violence” and all other seasons! Happy Spring to those in the Northern Hemisphere & Happy Fall to those in the Southern Hemisphere.

This is the “missing” post for Wednesday, March 22^nd. 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). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.

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

“A good sequence is like a good story. There is a beginning (an introduction), the middle (the heart of the story), and the end (the conclusion)”

– Maty Ezraty

But, since we all have different stories, we need to get on the same page – and I just happen to have the privilege of turning that page.

Today is a day when I normally tell the stories of four very famous storytellers born on March 22^nd. These storytellers tell/told their stories in different ways; however, the storytellers themselves have something in common – other than the fact that they are all, as it turns out, the same gender and race and share the same profession and birthday. They all know/knew how to tell a good story. Regardless of if you read the adult novels or children’s books of one of my parents’ favorite authors; the poetry of one of my favorite poets; or listen to the brilliant lyrics and music of the two composers on the list, you will find that they follow a simple structure. It is the same structure we follow in the practice; a structure containing the three parts highlighted by Maty Ezraty and, also, a Chekhovian promise (which we’ll get to in the end).

As I said before, today is a day when I normally tell their stories. However, this year, I feel compelled to tell a few different stories. They are the stories being told, celebrated, and observed all over the world today. They are auspicious stories. They are holy stories. They are stories filled with their own promise: a promise of hope and renewal.

Some elements of the following were posted in 2020 and 2021, in a slightly different combination and context. You can click on the years to find the original posts. There are also some embedded links below, which connect to additional context.

“The truth, from my perspective, is that the world, indeed, is ending — and is also being reborn. It’s been doing that all day, every day, forever. Each time we exhale, the world ends; when we inhale, there can be, if we allow it, rebirth and spiritual renewal. It all transpires inside of us. In our consciousness, in our hearts. All the time.”

– Tom Robbins quoted in the Reality Sandwich article “The Syntax of Sorcery: An Interview with Tom Robbins” by Tony Vigorito (posted online June 6, 2012)

“Renewal” is a funny word, because I don’t think it is (technically) a homonym (i.e., a word that has multiple meanings), but it is a word that can conjure up very different sentiments. Simply stated, a “renewal” is the continuation or extension of something. Sometimes we think of it in the context of an activity or state that has been continuous, but had a set ending date – like when we borrow a book from a public library. Other times, we think of it in the context of continuing something that has been interrupted. Renewal can also be used to refer to something that has been repaired and/or restored to its original state… so that it can continue fulfilling its purpose.

Regardless of how you think of the word, “renewal” is a concept that we often associate with Spring. In fact, similar to how cultures all over the world celebrate light overcoming darkness during the darkest times of the year, cultures all over the world spend some portion of Spring celebrating renewal. In many cases, these celebrations mark a renewal of faith and a celebration of the continuation of a covenant with God.

Today, March 22, 2023, is a time when at least five different communities around the world are observing rituals related to renewal. While people within the Bahá’i Faith just finished observing the Bahá’i 19-Day Fast and celebrating the Nowruz (the New Year) – and have a few weeks before their most holy festival, Western Christian and Eastern Orthodox Christian communities are observing the last few weeks of Lent and Great Lent. At this same time, some people in India and the Indian diaspora are celebrating Ugadi, the Hindu (or Indian) New Year, which is also the beginning of Chaitra Navaratri. Finally, the holy month of Ramadān in Islām is scheduled to begin tonight at sunset. (In countries that do not have sightings of the crescent moon, the holy month will begin on Thursday or Friday). Some of these celebrations and observations will extend into April, overlapping even more auspicious and holy times for even more communities around the world. Each ritual has different customs, traditions, and significances; however, what is important to note is how each observation renews people’s connection with their faith, their community, and the deepest parts of themselves.

“Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, left the Jordan and was led by the Spirit into the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing during those days, and at the end of them he was hungry.”

– quoted from The Gospel According to St. Luke (4:1-2, NIV)

NOTE: This is almost identical to The Gospel According to St. Matthew (4:1-2, NIV)

As I’ve mentioned before, the word “Lent” comes from the Old English word for “spring season” and is a period of 40 days meant to mirror the 40 days Jesus spent fasting in the wilderness prior to being betrayed, crucified, and resurrected. For Christians, it is seen as a period of preparation (for Easter) and involves fasting, prayer, reflection, redemption, and (yes) renewal. While the story is the same, the Roman Catholic and Western Christian traditions use a different calendar than the Eastern / Orthodox Christian traditions. The way the Sundays are counted is another difference in the way Lent and Great Lent are observed. In Roman Catholic and Protestant traditions, Sundays are considered “Feast Days” – anniversaries of Easter and the Resurrection – and, therefore, they are not counted as days of penance. In Orthodox traditions, Sundays are included in the count.

The holy month of Ramadān is another observation within an Abrahamic religion – and it also involves yet another different calendar; so, the overlap in holy times is not always the same. Ramadān is an Arabic word derived from a root word meaning “scorching heat” or “dryness.” In addition to being the name of the 9^th month of the Islāmic calendar, which is a month of fasting, prayer, reflection, and community, it is also one of the 99 “Beautiful Names of Allah” (also known as “99 Attributes of Allah”). While the fasting from sunrise to sunset during the holy month is a holy obligation (for those who are physically able) and one of the Five Pillars of Faith in Islām, I normally don’t focus on this particular ritual and tradition until the end of the holy month – which includes a night that is considered the holiest night of the month, a night of revelation and destiny.

“I know I’m waiting
Waiting for something
Something to happen to me
But this waiting comes with
Trials and challenges
Nothing in life is free”

“My Lord, show me right from wrong
Give me light, make me strong
I know the road is long
Make me strong”

– quoted from the song “Make Me Strong” by Sami Yusuf

There are several calendars used in India and Southeast Asia which may be referred to as the Hindu calendar (or, in some cases the Buddhist calendar). For the most part, these are lunisolar calendars. Some, like those used in Nepal and certain regions of India, emphasize the lunar cycles and start with the (spring) harvest season. On the flip side, the Tamil calendar emphasizes the solar cycle and begins around the Vernal (Spring) Equinox. (In fact, I have seen the Tamil calendar described as a purely solar calendar.)

The Indian calendars tend to have twelve months, however, in some areas (particularly in the North) a month begins the day after a full moon and in other areas (often in the South) the month begins at sunrise after the “no moon” or new moon. The months are usually divided into the bright half (waxing, when the crescent appears after the new moon) and the darker half (waning, the day after the full moon). Because of the different starting points, the same lunar-oriented religious holidays may start at slightly different times throughout the continent. Either way you look at it, many people are beginning their observations and celebrations of Navaratri.

Navaratri (which means “nine nights” in Sanskrit) technically occurs four times on the Hindu calendar, although extra emphasis is put on the one beginning today and the one in the fall. Like the others, the fall celebration of Sharada Navaratri is a celebration of divine feminine energy – specifically of Durga, the divine mother, in various manifestations. It is considered the most celebrated. Magha Navaratri and Ashada Navaratri are the least celebrated, although they have special significance in certain regions. The second most celebrated Navaratri is Chaitra Navaratri, which begins today and is also Ugadi, the Hindu or Indian New Year.

Like the others, Chaitra Navaratri begins by celebrating Durga as Shailaputri (“Daughter of Mountain”). Shailputri is the daughter of Himavat, the Mountain King or Guardian God of Himalayan Mountains, and is recognized as a divine manifestation of Mahadevi and a reincarnation of Sati (the wife of Shiva), who then reincarnates as Parvati. In art, she holds a trishula or trident in her right hand and a lotus in her left hand, all while riding Shiva’s bull Nandi*, whose name means “happy, joy, and satisfaction.” In some regions, this spring celebration culminates on the final day with Rama Navami – a celebration of the birth of Lord Rama.

“Lord Ram gave Hanuman a quizzical look and said, ‘What are you, a monkey or a man?’ Hanuman bowed his head reverently, folded his hands and said, ‘When I do not know who I am, I serve You and when I do know who I am, You and I are One.’”

– quoted from the epic Sanskrit poem Ramacharitmanas (Lake of the Deeds of Rama) by Goswami Tulsidas

All of the rituals and traditions mentioned above could be considered vigils (or feature vigils at some point during the observation) – as they are periods of time when people are “keeping awake during the time usually spent asleep, especially to keep watch or pray.” Even when people are not literally staying up all night, they are required to be mindful (i.e., awake) to how they can fulfill the obligations of their faith on a day-to-day basis. All of these rituals and traditions are practiced in community. Finally, they all fit into the rubric of kriyā yoga, as described by Patanjali in Yoga Sūtra 2.1-2. They all involve a combination of tapah (“heat, austerity, or discipline” and the practices that cultivate heat, discipline, and austerity on a number of levels), svādhyāya (“self-study”), and īśvarapraņidhāna (“trustful surrender to [God]”). Furthermore, they all have the intention or goal of bringing about that ultimate “union” and the end of suffering – which is, on a certain level, a promise made by all the major religious, spiritual, and/or philosophical traditions.

Which brings us back to that Chekhovian promise.

Anton Chekov said that if there is a rifle (or a pistol) hanging on the wall in the first chapter/act, it must go off in the second or third. He told another playwright, “It’s wrong to make promises you don’t mean to keep.”

Whenever we step on the mat, there’s a part of us that is making a promise (to ourselves). We are also, on a certain level, keeping a promise. Whenever I put together a sequence, there’s a part of me that thinks about that promise and how I can honor it. I also think about a song by Stephen Sondheim (“Putting it together…bit by bit…piece by piece”), as well as about Maty Ezraty’s sequencing advice about the middle (the heart) of the story. I consider how I can build up to a big heart opener (and/or a big hip opener). I also think about how we each need to process our own personal story in order to not only lift and open our hearts, but also to support our lifted and open hearts – especially in times when it is so easy to close off. Then I think about what best moves us into stillness and a period of reflection, after all that we’ve done to get to the middle (the heart). Finally, I think about rituals and traditions.

I often indicate that traditions are rituals that have lost a little bit of their meaning. Saying that may, sometimes, take away from the fact that both rituals and traditions are powerful. They have powerful affects on our minds, our bodies, and our spirits. They are part of our stories – and, also part of the ways we tell and share our stories. They can also be the ways in which we process our stories. Similarly, our practice is full of rituals and traditions that – on and off the mat – renew our connections with our beliefs, our communities, and the deepest parts of ourselves.

“Practicing yoga is a privilege. And with this privilege comes a duty to be kind, to share a smile, and to offer yoga from the mat into the rest of your life.”

– Maty Ezraty

Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.

Two quick notes about the music: First, some of the songs on the playlist are, or could be considered, Nasheeds (meaning they are religiously moral songs) that, in some traditions, are meant to be sung without instrumentation or only with percussion. I have, however, included orchestrated versions of these songs, because this seems to have worked best in an in-studio setting. I mean no disrespect by this choice. As far as I know, percussion or voice only recordings of each song are available (if you want to build your own playlist). Alternatively, you can practice without the music. Second, I broke one of my personal rules and included a song (in Hindi) for which I only have a partial translation. I’m still searching and seeking.

*CORRECTION: During the 4:30 practice, I mixed up Nandi and Nandini, the cow of plenty in the Mahabharata. My apologies for the confusion.

### Unity yields Equity and Equality ###

Sitting, Breathing… in a Room [the “missing” Tuesday post] January 26, 2022

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in "Impossible" People, Abhyasa, Art, Books, Changing Perspectives, Depression, Dharma, Food, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Loss, Movies, Mysticism, One Hoop, Pain, Peace, Philosophy, Suffering, Tragedy, Vairagya, Vipassana, Wisdom, Women, Writing, Yoga.
Tags: bandhas, Carl Jung, Dr. Toya Webb, Haţha Yoga Pradipika, Matthew Sanford, Maty Ezraty, MBSR, mental health, Michael Cunningham, Moon Knight, Pancham Sinh, siddhis, The Air I Breathe, trauma, Virginia Woolf
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Warning: This post references to mental health and a person who experienced severe emotional distress.

This is the “missing” post for Tuesday, January 25^th. Links in the 4^th paragraph of the “Coda” will connect you to other websites. You can request an audio recording of the practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.

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

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

Coda:

Do you ever think about what yoga and Virginia Woolf have in common? No? Just me? Ok, that’s fine; it’s not the first time – and will not be the last time that I make what, on the surface, appears to be a really random connection. It’s not even the first (and probably won’t be the last) time this week. However, in circling back to this practice and this theme, I found myself thinking a little more about mental health and the implications of having space, time, and the other resources to focus, concentrate, contemplate, and meditate.

Last year, this practice fell on Monday, 12521 (making it a palindrome practice). While I waited until the following day to reference Carl Jung’s thoughts on yoga and mental health, those thoughts are always hovering in the back of my mind. And yes, that is the second time this week I’ve mentioned the psychiatrist and psychoanalysis on the blog. However, he and his work have come up at least three times this week. Starting with a conversation I had with my brother.

As some of you know, my youngest brother is one of the coolest people I know. He is cool on a lot of different levels, including being pretty Zen in temperament. But, he doesn’t have a regular practice yoga or meditation practice and he doesn’t really talk about those things with people who do (except me). Over the weekend, he asked me about something he read regarding yoga, meditation, and people who have experienced trauma. Our conversations, as they often do, oscillated between the experiences of real people and the experiences of a certain Marvel comic book character. We talked a little about the emotional ramifications of sitting and breathing… and the things that come up when one is essentially alone with their thoughts. It’s a double-edged sword, as Dr. Jung pointed out – as Patanjali, Vyasa, and other early yoga scribes pointed out. So, we talked about the importance of practicing with care and awareness.

Today there is trauma-sensitive yoga, trauma-informed yoga, MBSR (Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction), HeartMath®, and people who just practice yoga with an awareness that stuff comes up. I mean; we’ve all been through something and when you’ve been through something, stuff comes up. The more intense the trauma-related experience was, the more intense it can be when stuff comes up. Every practice doesn’t work for every person (even Patanjali pointed this out at the beginning of the fourth section of the Yoga Sūtras); but every person needs some way to process what they have experienced – whether they consider it traumatic or not.

Journaling is helpful. Talking to someone is helpful. Connecting with nature is helpful. Sitting and breathing is helpful. You may not need (or want) a “trauma-” label associated with your method of processing, but if you find yourself being overwhelmed by emotion, do something: Ask for help! Maybe a teacher engaged in mindfulness-based practices can help you. Maybe you have a spiritual and/or religious guide who can help you. Maybe you need a mental health professional. Either way, remember that sensation is information; it’s the way the mind-body tells our stories.

Matthew Sanford, the founder of Mind Body Solutions, talks about “healing stories” – the stories we tell ourselves (and each other) to explain our experiences. Those stories are one of the ways we process our stuff. Dr. Toya Webb reminds us that we are “always listening [to the story we tell ourselves] – whether it is destructive or productive.” Maty Ezraty, a master yoga teacher, said that every practice is like a good story.

Consider all of this as you read the following revised version of last year’s post entitled, “Who’s Afraid of Breathing?”

“surājye dhārmike deśe subhikṣhe nirupadrave |
dhanuḥ pramāṇa-paryantaṃ śilāghni-jala-varjite |
ekānte maṭhikā-madhye sthātavyaṃ haṭha-yoghinā || 12 ||

The Yogī should practise [sic] Haṭha Yoga in a small room, situated in a solitary place, being 4 cubits square, and free from stones, fire, water, disturbances of all kinds, and in a country where justice is properly administered, where good people live, and food can be obtained easily and plentifully.”

– quoted from “Chapter 1. On Āsanas” of the Haţha Yoga Pradipika, translated by Pancham Sinh (1914)

“… a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction…”

– quoted from the essay “A Room of One’s Own,” as it appears in A Room of One’s Own And, Three Guineas by Virginia Woolf

In October 1928, Virginia Woolf gave two speeches to two different student societies at Newnham College and Girton College, which at the time were two of the all-women colleges at the University of Cambridge. (NOTE: Newnham is still an all-women’s college. Girton started accepting men in 1971 and started allowing men to be “Mistress,” or head of the college, in 1976.) The speeches were about women and fiction – and specifically detailed why there were so few women writers who had earned acclaimed (and, to certain degree, why those that did often did so anonymously or with “male” names). She also highlighted the absurd trichotomy between the two wildly archetypical way women are portrayed in literature and the reality of the very different types of women in the room, let alone in the world.

Born Virginia Stephen in Kensington, England, Janaury 25, 1882, Ms. Woolf speculated about the works that might have come from a woman (say, in Shakespeare’s time) who had a helpmate to take care of the cooking, cleaning, children, and other household business. She also talked about the social constraints that not only prevented a woman from devoting copious time to the practical application of her craft, writing, but also the social constraints and inequalities that could result in what would amount to writer’s block. All this, she detailed, even before she addressed the issue of a market place predisposed to highlight male writers – and she introduced her ideas by establishing two (really three) of the things a woman would need to overcome the obstacles of society: (time), space, and money.

When I first started going deeper into my physical practice of yoga, I looked into some of the classic texts within the tradition. One of those texts was the Haţha Yoga Pradipika (Light on the Physical Practice of Yoga), a 15^th Century text that focuses on āsanas (“seats” or poses), prāņāyāma (breath awareness and control), mudrās (“seals” or “gestures”), and Samādhi (that ultimate form of “meditation” that is absorption). Throughout the text, and in particular in the chapter on mudrās, there is a breakdown of how energy, power, or vitality moves through the body and the benefits of harnessing that power.

I would eventually appreciate how the text is almost a summary of the earlier Yoga Sūtras, but (as an English lit major), what struck me first was how similar these early instructions – related to a practice that can be used to cultivate clarity and harness the power of the mind – were to Virginia Woolf’s advice to women writers.

“athāsane dṝdhe yoghī vaśī hita-mitāśanaḥ |
ghurūpadiṣhṭa-mārgheṇa prāṇāyāmānsamabhyaset || 1 ||

Posture becoming established, a Yogî, master of himself, eating salutary and moderate food, should practise [sic] Prâṇâyâma, as instructed by his guru.”

– quoted from “Chapter 2. On Prāņāyāma” of the Haţha Yoga Pradipika, translated by Pancham Sinh (1914)

“I feel a thousand capacities spring up in me. I am arch, gay, languid, melancholy by turns. I am rooted, but I flow.”

– quoted from “Susan” in The Waves by Virginia Woolf

Just as Virginia Woolf addressed misconceptions about women in her essays and fiction, the translator Pancham Sinh addressed some misconceptions about people who practice yoga and the practice of prāņāyāma in an introduction to the Haţha Yoga Pradipika. Part of the introduction is an admonishment to people who would study the practice, but do not practice it, stating, “People put their faith implicitly in the stories told them about the dangers attending the practice, without ever taking the trouble of ascertaining the fact themselves. We have been inspiring and expiring air from our birth, and will continue to do so till death; and this is done without the help of any teacher. Prāņāyāma is nothing but a properly regulated form of the otherwise irregular and hurried flow of air, without using much force or undue restraint; and if this is accomplished by patiently keeping the flow slow and steady, there can be no danger. It is the impatience for the Siddhis which cause undue pressure on the organs and thereby causes pains in the ears, the eyes, the chest, etc. If the three bandhas be carefully performed while practicing [sic] the Prāņāyāma, there is no possibility of any danger.”

Siddhis are the powers or “accomplishments” achieved from continuous practice. They range from being able to extend peace out into the world and understanding all languages; to being able to levitate and know the inner workings of another’s heart and mind; to the six “powers unique to being human.” Bandhas are “locks” and refer to internal engagements used to seal sections of the body in order to control the flow of prāņā. The three major bandhas referred to in the text are the same engagements I encourage when I tell people to “zip up” and engage the pelvic floor and lower abdominal cavity (mūla bandha), the mid and upper abdominal cavity (uḍḍīyana bandha), and the throat (jālandhara bandha). I typically refer to a fourth – pada bandha – which is a seal for the feet; however, in classical texts the fourth bandha is the engagement of the three major bandhas (root, abdominal, and throat) at the same time.

Before anyone gets it twisted, let’s be clear that this introduction is not advice to grab a book and follow instructions without the guidance of a teacher. In fact, Pancham Sinh specifically advised people to find a teacher who practiced and indicated that while one could follow the directions from a (sacred) book, there are some things that cannot be expressed in words. There are some things that can only be felt.

This is consistent with Patanjali’s explanation that the elements and senses that make up the “objective world” can be “divided into four categories: specific, unspecific, barely describable, and absolutely indescribable.” (YS 2.19) That is to say, there are some things that have specific sense-related reference points; some things that can be referred back to the senses, but only on a personal level; some things that have no reference points, but can be understood through “a sign” or comprehension of sacred text; and some things which cannot be described, because there is no tangible reference point and/or “sign” – there is only essence.

One of the things we can feel, but not touch, is emotion. Emotions can come with visceral experiences and, in that way, can fall into the “unspecific” category. More often than not, however, what we feel is “barely describable” (or even indescribable) – and yet, writers are always trying to describe or capture the essence of what is felt. As the author of nine novels (including one published shortly after her death), five short story collections (most of which were published after her death), a hybrid novel (part fiction, part non-fiction), three book-length essays, a biography, and hundreds of articles, reviews, and essays, Virginia Woolf constantly endeavored to describe what she felt and what she felt she saw others feeling. Even more salient, she often focused on the disconnection between what her characters felt and what they could describe about what they felt.

The author’s efforts were hindered, or aided (depending on one’s viewpoint), by the fact that she experienced so much trauma and heartbreak; much of which led to emotional despair. She was possibly (probably) abused by one of her half-brothers from an early age. Then she suffered a mental breakdown at the age of 13, after her mother died. Then she had to deal with the death of her half-sister and a maternal role model just two years later. When her father he died, in 1904, she had another breakdown, the severity of which landed her in the country for a period of convalescence. It was during this period that she began to write in earnest (even though the doctors had recommended that she only write letters) and that she would meet Leonard Woolf, the author whom she would marry in 1912. The writing helped, in that she seemed to find some mental and emotional stability for about 15 years. But, she would experience another breakdown after correcting the proofs of her first novel, The Voyage Out. The novel was published by her half-brother’s publishing company (yes, that aforementioned half-brother) and introduced the world to “Clarissa Dalloway,” the protagonist of her fourth novel.

“evaṃ vidhe maṭhe sthitvā sarva-chintā-vivarjitaḥ |
ghurūpadiṣhṭa-mārgheṇa yoghameva samabhyaset || 14 ||

Having seated in such a room and free from all anxieties, he should practise [sic] Yoga, as instructed by his guru.”

– quoted from “Chapter 1. On Āsanas” of the Haţha Yoga Pradipika, translated by Pancham Sinh (1914)

“You cannot find peace by avoiding life.”

– quoted from The Hours: a novel by Michael Cunningham

It is interesting to me that while the instruction for the Haţha Yoga Pradipika instructed a person to practice when they were “free from…disturbances of all kinds” (HYP 1.12); “free from dirt, filth and insects” (HYP 1.13); and “free from all anxieties” (HYP 1.14), the vast majority of people practicing in the modern world do so in order to free themselves from the various maladies that plague them. Additionally, I find it interesting that historians, teachers of literature, and even psychiatrists spend a lot of time (theoretically) diagnosing a young woman (Virginia Woolf) who may have been experiencing (and working through) the most natural of emotions; natural, given her circumstances.

Were her emotions extreme and potentially dangerous? Yes, by all accounts – including her own words and her death – her emotions were extreme and dangerous; as were her circumstances. Initially, she was able to work through her distress because she had the support of those to whom she was connected. In the end, however, she was left alone and feeling disconnected.

The Air I Breathe, one of my favorite movies, was released in the United States Janaury 25, 2008. Inspired by the idea that emotions are like fingers on a hand, the main characters are known to the audience as Happiness, Pleasure, Sorrow, Love, and Fingers – and their stories are interconnected, even though they don’t necessarily realize it. In fact, some of the most desperate actions in the movie are motivated by fear and a sense of isolation. Promotional materials for the movie proclaimed, “We are all strangers / We are all living in fear / We are all ready to change” and in the movie Happiness asks, “So where does change come from? And how do we recognize it when it happens?” Happiness also says, “I always wondered, when a butterfly leaves the safety of its cocoon, does it realize how beautiful it has become? or does it still just see itself as a caterpillar? I think both the statement and the questions could be applied to so many, if not all, of Virginia Woolf’s characters. They could also be applied to all of us in the world right now.

“‘For,’ the outsider will say, ‘in fact as a woman, I have no country. As a woman I want no country. As a woman my country is the whole world.’ And if, when reason has had its say, still some obstinate emotion remains, some love of England dropped into a child’s ears… this drop of pure, if irrational, emotion she will make serve her to give to England first what she desires of peace and freedom for the whole world.”

– quoted from the novel-essay “Three Guineas,” as it appears in The Selected Works of Virginia Woolf by Virginia Woolf

As I have mentioned before, I consider the 8-Limbed Yoga Philosophy to have very real-time, practical applications and I normally think of the physical practice as an opportunity to practice, explore, and play with the various elements of the philosophy. I will even sometimes use aspects of alignment as a metaphor for situations in our lives off the mat. Given ~~this last year~~ the last few years, however, I have really started to consider how āsana instructions from classic texts like The Yoga Sūtras of Patanjali and the Haţha Yoga Pradipika, can be more practically applied to the most basic aspects of everyday life.

For instance, if we spend our time on the mat cultivating a “steady/stable, comfortable/easy/joyful” foundation in order to breathe easier and more deeply, doesn’t it make sense to spend some time cultivating the same type of foundation in our lives?
Going out a little more, if we do not have the luxury or privilege of practicing “in a country where justice is properly administered, where good people live, and food can be obtained easily and plentifully,” doesn’t it behoove us to create that land?
Finally, what happens if we (to paraphrase yoga sūtras 2.46-47) establish a baseline for stability and then loosen up a little bit and focus on the infinite? Patanjali and the authors of the other sacred texts told us we would become more of who we are: leaner in body, healthier, brighter, more joyful, “clearer, stronger, and more intuitive.” In other words: peaceful and blissful.

“lōkāḥ samastāḥ sukhinōbhavantu”

– A mettā (loving-kindness) chant that translates to “May all-beings, everywhere, be happy and be free.”

Tuesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify.

“vapuḥ kṝśatvaṃ vadane prasannatā
nāda-sphuṭatvaṃ nayane sunirmale |
aroghatā bindu-jayo|aghni-dīpanaṃ
nāḍī-viśuddhirhaṭha-siddhi-lakṣhaṇam || 78 ||

When the body becomes lean, the face glows with delight, Anâhatanâda manifests, and eyes are clear, body is healthy, bindu under control, and appetite increases, then one should know that the Nâdîs are purified and success in Haṭha Yoga is approaching.”

– quoted from “Chapter 1. On Āsanas” of the Haţha Yoga Pradipika, translated by Pancham Sinh (1914)

“The human frame being what it is, heart, body and brain all mixed together, and not contained in separate compartments as they will be no doubt in another million years, a good dinner is of great importance to good talk. One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.”

– quoted from the essay “A Room of One’s Own,” as it appears in A Room of One’s Own And, Three Guineas by Virginia Woolf

If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can call 1-800-273-TALK (8255). You can also call the TALK line if you are struggling with addiction or involved in an abusive relationship. The Lifeline network is free, confidential, and available to all 24/7. YOU CAN TALK ABOUT ANYTHING.

If you are a young person in crisis, feeling suicidal, or in need of a safe and judgement-free place to talk, contact the TrevorLifeline (which is staffed 24/7 with trained counselors).

“Realize that there is freedom in telling your story and that there is power in your words.”

*

– quoted from the November 2018 TedxDelthorneWomen talk entitled, “Change Your Perspective and Change Your Story” by Dr. Toya Webb

*

### OM SHANTI, SHANTI, SHANTHI OM ###

The Stories Behind the Music (or The Vibration Behind the Vibration) July 21, 2021

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Books, Changing Perspectives, Depression, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Loss, Men, Minnesota, Music, Pain, Philosophy, Suffering, Texas, Tragedy, Wisdom, Women, Writing, Yoga.
Tags: Books, Buchi Emecheta, Changing Perspectives, Dr. Lucille P. Fultz, Ernest Hemingway, Google Doodle, iceberg theory, inspiration, literature, Maty Ezraty, theory of omission, Toni Morrison, truth, yoga practice
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“A good sequence is like a good story. There is a beginning (an introduction), the middle (the heart of the story), and the end (the conclusion)”

— Maty Ezraty

Every practice tells a series of concentric — and sometimes overlapping — stories. There is the obvious physical-mental story, which is the story of where your mind-body has been, where you are, and where you could go. This story overlaps with the related story of vedanā, based on your sensations, feelings, and/or vibrations in the past, present, and future. We can call this an emotional story, but it is also an energetic story. Then there is also the story of symbols, stereotypes, and archetypes — which is how our mind-body often frames these other stories in order to better understand them. Finally, when I lead a practice, there is the story (or stories) I tell to frame the other stories.

The stories — or themes — that I share during the practice can be purely philosophical; religious; rooted in math and/or science; fictional; historical; and/or biographical. In fact, sometimes there are elements of all of the above. And while I use the āsanas (“seats” or poses) and the sequences to tell these framing stories – and, of course, I use my words — a lot of the story gets told with the music.

Ah, yes, music, “sweet music” — which spirals in a whole other set of concentric (and sometimes overlapping) stories. One of those spirals (i.e., one of those stories told by the music I select to tell the other stories) is the story of where I come from and the timing of when I came and developed in the world. Yes, I sometimes do a little research and may adjust some of my old playlists to be more inclusive — I’ve even been known to include a song or two that don’t particularly resonate with me. Ultimately, however, I am who I am and (like every other storyteller that’s ever existed) I tell the story based on what I know.

Which means: The stories I tell (and even how I tell them) would be very different if I were a white American-born man of a certain generation or if I were a Nigerian-born British woman of a certain generation.

The the remainder of this post, excluding details and links for today’s classes, was originally posted on July 21, 2020. There are references to mental health, suicide, and spousal abuse. If you want a little musical challenge, read this “Tale of Two Writers” and then create your own playlist based on their lives. You can even share it or link it in the comments below.

“… she has, over time, changed her politics about race and gender differences. This Emersonian political shift — ‘Speak what you think now in hard words, and to-morrow speak what to-morrow thinks in hard words again’ (McQuade 1 : 1148 ) – is one measure Morrison ‘ s developing sensibility as a woman and as an artist. Two examples immediately come to mind. In 1974, Morrison cautiously spoke of what she considered to be ‘a male consciousness’ and ‘a female consciousness’ as totally separate spheres. She then stated, ‘Black men – and this may be way off the wall because I haven’t had time to fully reflect about this – frequently are reacting to a lot more external pressures than Black women are. For one thing they have an enormous responsibility to be men.’ Morrison went on to reinforce her conviction: ‘All I am saying is that the root of a man’s sensibilities [is] different from a woman’s’ (Taylor-Guthrie 7). Morrison slightly modified this view when she spoke of her construction of Sula as a rebel, as a masculinized figure, and an equal partner in sexual relations in the 1920’s and 1930’s. She stated that Sula did not depict ‘as typical black woman at all’ (Septo, “Intimate Things” 219).”

— quoted from Toni Morrison: Playing with Difference by Lucille P. Fultz

This is a tale of two writers. Both born today — one in 1899, the other in 1944 — one was male, the other was female. One was White, the other was Black. We can get into nationalities later, but…. One won a Pulitzer Prize in Fiction and a Nobel Prize in Literature, while the other was designated OBE. Both have foundations named after them. One you have studied, probably in high school, maybe in college (even if you weren’t a literature major) and one you may have never read (let alone studied — even if you studied literature). She was born on his 45^th birthday, when he was in Germany (curiously attached to an infantry regiment and doing things that would eventually bring up charges against him by the Geneva Convention). Both are recognized as successful authors and both wrote from their own experiences. However, so far as I can tell, only one of them has (as of today) ever been featured as a Google Doodle. (Spoiler Alert: It’s not the one you’ll be thinking when their identities are revealed.)

Let’s start with the man — one, because he was born first and second, because he is considered to be the model of a man’s man. In fact, he made his living as an author writing about characters who are considered to be the epitome of masculinity (even when, as it sometimes was, very obviously toxic masculinity). He went to a public high school, in a major U. S. city, but did not attend college. He was married four times, traveled the world, fathered three children (all boys), and spent his 26^th birthday starting his first novel — which would also be one of his most famous works. (I think) he smoked and he (definitely) drank for most of his life; however, his drinking became excessively excessive after a couple of plane crashes in Africa. He was devastated when his first wife lost a suitcase full of manuscripts and (towards the end of his life) super paranoid that the American government was keeping tabs on him. They were; the FBI had a file on him — in part because of his ties to Cuba. He received electroshock treatments/therapy at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota and committed suicide, just like his father, sister, and brother (as well as one of his father-in-laws). He was 61. It’s possible that his paranoia and suicide were (in part) caused by the same thing that caused his father’s paranoia and suicide; they bother suffered from hereditary hemochromatosis, which causes the body to absorb too much iron and leads to physical as well as mental deterioration. He is often quoted as saying that in a man must do four things in his life (in order to be a man): plant a tree, fight a bull, write a novel, and father a son (although some have said “raise a son”).

If any of this sounds familiar, it’s because this first author is Ernest “Papa” Hemingway. (He has not been featured as a Google Doodle — but he has been quoted in reference to Google Doodles for Josephine Baker and René Maran.) Hemingway started off as a journalist, who served in World War I (as a Red Cross ambulance driver, because the U. S. Army diagnosed him with bad eyesight), and somehow (see “curiously” note above) attached himself to a U. S. army infantry regiment during World War II. His work includes novels, novellas, short stories, non-fiction, articles, and published letters. He referred to his minimalist style of writing as “the iceberg theory” or “the theory of omission”.

“If a writer of prose knows enough of what he is writing about he may omit things that he knows and the reader, if the writer is writing truly enough, will have a feeling of those things as strongly as though the writer had stated them. The dignity of movement of an ice-berg is due to only one-eighth of it being above water. A writer who omits things because he does not know them only makes hollow places in his writing.”

— quoted from Death in the Afternoon by Ernest Hemingway

As I mentioned before, the woman also wrote about what she knew — of course, what she knew was very different. She wrote, for example, that “you are simply not allowed to commit suicide in peace, because everyone is responsible for the other person.” Her gender initially meant that she would be kept at home; however, she convinced her parents that there was a benefit to her going to school. She attended private primary school, earned a scholarship to a private secondary school, and eventually attended the University of London. However, she was also engaged by age 11, married and pregnant at 16 years old, and separated and pregnant with her fifth child by the age of 22. By all accounts, she not only gave birth, she also raised her children and managed to earn a Bachelor of Science (Honours) degree in Sociology by age 28 and a PhD by the time she was 47 years old. She received a second, honorary, doctorate from a second University a year later. Her marriage was unhappy, violent, and punctuated by her husband’s paranoia about her writing. He burned her first manuscript. She rewrote it, but five years passed in the interim. She worked as a library officer for the British Museum in London, as a youth worker and sociologist, and as a community worker — all while writing, publishing, and raising her children. Her writing eventually enabled her to travel around the world (including to the U. S.) as a guest professor and visiting lecturer. In addition to working a variety of cultural and literary organizations, she and one of her sons ran a publishing company (that printed some of her own work under her own imprint). She was made an OBE (Officer of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire) in 2005. She suffered a stroke in 2010 and died 7 years later. She was 72. She once said, “I work toward the liberation of women, but I’m not a feminist. I’m just a woman. My books are about survival, just like my own life.”

If none of this sounds familiar, you might be surprised that Buchi Emecheta was celebrated with a Google Doodle a year ago today (on what would have been her 75^th birthday). She reportedly started writing as a way to deal with the troubles in her marriage and went on to write novels, children/YA books, plays, articles, and an autobiography. Her son Sylvester, who established a publishing company to ensure his mother’s work stays in print, said that Emecheta was the descendant of storytellers who passed down to him and his siblings the “Moonlight tales” that she learned from her aunts and father.

“Living entirely off writing is a precarious existence and money is always short, but with careful management and planning I found I could keep my head and those of my family, through God’s grace, above water.”

— Head Above Water by Buchi Emecheta

Ultimately, we are taught what someone has decided it is important for us to learn. We may not have any reason to question why we are taught one thing and not another, one author and not another. And, if we are not big readers, we are unlikely to read outside of our primary society’s canon. Maybe, as we get older, we turn to mass market fiction (or non-fiction) as a form of escapism. Maybe we turn to award winning literature — but we don’t really question why one author gets published but not the other, why one book makes the short list but not the other. Since many of us have grown up in society where we were encouraged to learn/do/teach (or see/do/teach) this means that we teach what we were taught — even if we are not teachers. Furthermore, as has happened recently, when we start to question and explore… we start with what (and who) we know – even if the authors we know are not experts in our latest field of study.

This paradox reminds me of Newton’s Laws of Motion (particularly, the law of inertia: an object in motion remains in motion, an object at rest remains at rest — unless something disrupts its condition). It also reminds me of college.

I studied English Literature at a major U. S. university. There had previously been some pretty prestigious guest professors over the years; however, when I started, in the late 1980’s, there were no African, African-American, Black British, or Black anything modules in literature. You might read a writer here or there in a 20^th Century survey class, but you couldn’t (as I did with Russian literature) sit in what was essentially an oversized closet with a professor and three or four other students and learn about literature written from the perspective of the African diaspora. (Honestly, in college, I probably didn’t even know how to write a sentence like that — that’s how far African-American literature was outside of my wheelhouse!)

Dr. Lucille P. Fultz joined the faculty my senior year and, with some new awareness, I decided to take one of her classes. She had graduated from Spellman College (a historically black university for women) and completed her graduate degrees at the University of Iowa (which is known for its writers) and Emory University (which is just known). I remember her as my own personal stereotype of a Spellman woman: mature, petite, dark-skinned, natural, knowledgeable (in a seriously erudite way), well-spoken (but also soft-spoken), and dressed to the nines. In my head, she wore white gloves — but honestly, I think I made that up. I may also have made up the idea that she did not original study literature with the intention of teaching African-American literature. I say, “I may have made up the idea”, because she is now recognized as an authority on Toni Morrison (whose history as a writer/mom/publisher in some ways mirrors Emecheta’s history as a writer/mom/publisher) and she got me to read The Bluest Eye, which was quite possibly the only Toni Morrison book I had not read on my own.

My alma mater now has a history department with “a strong team dedicated to the history of Africa, the African diaspora, and African-American Studies” and a newly established Center for African and African American Studies. Curiously (and going back to the idea that we learn what we are taught and teach what we learn), two of the six members of that dedicated team are easily recognizable as people of color – and they are the only ones on the team who graduated (as undergrads) from the school where they now teach; one graduated just before me, the other attended after Dr. Fultz was firmly established at the university.

“Everyone’s life ends the same way. It is only the details of how he lived and how he died that distinguish one man from another.”

— Ernest Hemingway

“[I write] stories of the world…[where]… women face the universal problems of poverty and oppression, and the longer they stay, no matter where they have come from originally, the more the problems become identical.”

— Buchi Emecheta

Hemingway wrote about war, sex, love, loyalty, fishing, bullfighting, and the feeling of being lost in the middle of an adventure. Emecheta wrote about sexual discrimination, racial prejudice, sex, love, changing nappies, being a single parent, and religion. They both wrote about culture clashes, their experiences in Africa, as well as about the roles and relationships between men and women, but much of what they wrote looks and feels very different – even when, occasionally, the wrote about the same situations. Take Africa, for instance. To Hemingway, the continent of Africa was an exotic land of (physical) danger and adventure. To Emecheta, Africa (and specifically Nigeria) was home and a land (socially and physically) dangerous in the way it marginalized women.

As I mentioned above, they had different ideas on suicide (even different ideas about why one might consider suicide) and they had very different ideas about education. In her autobiography, Emecheta wrote, “An uneducated person has little chance of happiness. He cannot enjoy reading, he cannot understand any complicated music, he does not know what to do with himself if he has no job. How many times have I heard my friends say, ‘ I want to leave my boring job because I want to write, because I want to catch up with goings on in the theatre, because I want to travel and because I want to be with my family.’ The uneducated man has no such choices. Once he has lost his boring job, he feels he’s lost his life. That is unfair.” On the flip side, Hemingway had significantly less (formal) education than Emecheta, struggled with depression, and stated that when he started writing his first novel, “Everybody my age had written a novel and I was still having a difficult time writing a paragraph.”

“If people bring so much courage to this world the world has to kill them to break them, so of course it kills them. The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry.”

— A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway

“She, who only a few months previously would have accepted nothing but the best, had by now been conditioned to expect inferior things. She was now learning to suspect anything beautiful and pure. Those things were for the whites, not the blacks.”

— Second Class Citizen by Buchi Emecheta

Please join me today (Wednesday, July 21^st) 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. [Look for “07212020 A Tale of Two Writers”]

If you are using an Apple device/browser and the “Class Schedules” calendar is no longer loading, you may need to upgrade your browser, or you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com at least 20 minutes before the practice you would like to attend.

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). (Donations to Common Ground and Mind Body Solutions are tax deductible; class purchases and donations directly to me are not necessarily deductible.)

“If every one said orders were impossible to carry out when they were received where would you be? Where would we all be if you just said, ‘Impossible,’ when orders came?”

— For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway

“Just keep trying and trying. If you have the determination and commitment, you will succeed.”

— Buchi Emecheta

If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can call 1-800-273-TALK (8255). You can also call the TALK line if you are struggling with addiction or involved in an abusive relationship. The Lifeline network is free, confidential, and available to all 24/7. YOU CAN TALK ABOUT ANYTHING.

If you are a young person in crisis, feeling suicidal, or in need of a safe and judgement-free place to talk, call the TrevorLifeline (which is staffed 24/7 with trained counselors).

Updated 2025.

### Everybody: PLANT A TREE ###

So Many Birthdays, So Many Stories, So Much Music… March 22, 2020

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Books, Changing Perspectives, Gratitude, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Men, Music, One Hoop, Peace, Poetry, Science, Super Heroes, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.
Tags: #Savewithstories, Andrew Lloyd Webber, Barbra Streisand, Billy Collins, James Patterson, Maty Ezraty, Stephen Sondheim, storytellers, yoga, yoga sequencing
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This post contains a link for “Save with Stories” – a partnership with Save the Children and No Kid Hungry. You’ll find the link in the sentence (below), “Being read to as a child is one of the great experiences in life.”

Maty Ezraty, a yoga teacher of teachers, who died last summer, once told a teacher, “A good sequence is like a good story. There is a beginning (an introduction), the middle (the heart of the story), and the end (the conclusion)”

Take a moment to go little deeper into the middle of your story, because that’s where we are: the middle of our stories.

People often tell me (as someone told me just this weekend) that one of the things they like about my classes is the story, as well as the way the poses and the music tell the story. The practice is always a way to tell our stories. It is also a way to process our stories, every time we inhale, every time we exhale. As I was reviewing Sunday’s playlist (March 22^nd), I realized it not only tells the stories of some great storytellers celebrating birthdays today (as I intended) and is a way to process our current life-plot (as I intended), it also reflects my story as a lover of stories.

James Patterson (b. 1947, in Newburgh, NY), is a bestselling novelist and children’s book author whose books can always be found in my parents bookshelves. Doesn’t matter if it is mystery, suspense, romance, or science, Patterson keeps you in the moment and keeps a Chekhovian promise (which we’ll get to in the end). One of his protagonists is a 12-year old orphan named Max Einstein. Like her namesake, this Einstein is a genius with wild (in her case red) curly hair. She is told that her story combined with her emotional and intellectual quotients are why she is considered the world’s “last great hope.” Patterson wrote, “If we are to help save the human race, we must recognize the humanity in all, no matter their station in life.”

For his part, Patterson has donated over 300 million books to school-aged children and the military, over $70 million to support education, and endowed over 5,000 scholarships for teachers.

Stephen Sondheim (b. 1930, in New York City, NY) is a legendary musical theater composer and lyrics, as well as an award-winning film composer. He has won 8 Tony Awards (more than any other composer), 8 Grammy Awards, a Pulitzer Prize, a Laurence Olivier Award, and was awarded a 2015 Presidential Medal of Freedom. In all my time working in theater, I can’t say that I ever worked on any of Sondheim’s musicals (or the musicals of our final birthday composer), but I’ve seen my fair share of both their works – and can definitely sing along.

Also born in New York City, NY, in 1941, poet Billy Collins has been called “The most popular poet in America” and has served as United States Poet Laureate (2001 – 2003) and New York State Poet (2004 – 2006). Collins considers “humor a doorway into the serious” and begins his poem “Picnic, Lightning” by quoting Vladimir Nabokov. In Lolita, the protagonist says, “My very photogenic mother died in a freak accident (picnic, lightning)…”

In a 2001 interview with The Paris Review, Billy Collins said, “I have a secret theory that people who are addicted to reading are almost trying to recreate the joy, the comfortable joy of being read to as a child…. Being read to as a child is one of the great experiences in life.”

Our final birthday storyteller is Baron Lloyd-Webber, or more properly styled, The Lord Lloyd-Webber…better known as the EGOT Andrew Lloyd Webber (no hyphen). Born today in 1948 (in Kensington, London), he has composed 13 musicals, a song cycle, a set of variations, 2 film scores, and a Latin Requiem Mass. He is an EGOT because he has won an Emmy Award, 4 Grammy Awards, an Academy Award (Oscar), and 7 Tony Awards – as well as 8 Laurence Olivier Awards and a plethora of other awards.

And now, back to that Chekhovian promise.

It was Anton Chekov who said that if there is a rifle (or a pistol) hanging on the wall in the first chapter/act, it must go off in the second or third. He told another playwright, “It’s wrong to make promises you don’t mean to keep.”

Whenever we step on the mat, there’s a part of us that is making a promise. Whenever, I put together a sequence there’s a part of me that thinks about that promise, as well as about that second Sondheim song (“Putting it together…bit by bit…piece by piece”) and Maty Ezraty’s sequencing advice about the middle (the heart) of the story. I consider how can I build up to a big heart opener and how we each need to process our own personal story in order to not only lift and open our hearts, but to also support our lifted and open hearts – especially in a time when it is so easy to close off.

Maty Ezraty said, “Practicing yoga is a privilege. And with this privilege comes a duty to be kind, to share a smile, and to offer yoga from the mat into the rest of your life.”

Here’s a mini-practice (5 minutes) which you can use it as your whole practice as the beginning/introduction portion of your practice and finish with a deeper back bend (even if it’s the same back bend – just with more awareness, more breath, and more smile.

### NAMASTE ###

ORGANIZING THE WORK(ers): 2019 Kiss My Asana Offering #10 April 10, 2019

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Uncategorized.
Tags: Anne Lamott, Bakasana, Cesar Chavez, Crane Pose, Crow Pose, Delores Huerta, Kakkasana, KISS MY ASANA, Maty Ezraty, Mind Body Solutions, Thomas Edison
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The “practice preview” below is part of my offering for the 2019 Kiss My Asana yogathon. I encourage you to set aside at least 5 minutes a day during April, to practice with today’s theme or concept as inspiration. You can practice in a class or on your own, but since the Kiss My Asana yogathon raises resources as well as awareness, I invite you to join me at a donation-based class on April 27th or May 4^th.

I also challenge you to set aside a certain amount every day that you practice with this concept/theme in mind. It doesn’t matter if you set aside one dollar per practice or $25 – set aside that amount each time you practice and donate it by April 30th.

Founded by Matthew Sanford, Mind Body Solutions helps those who have experienced trauma, loss, and disability find new ways to live by integrating both mind and body. They provide classes, workshops, and outreach programs. They also train yoga teachers and offer highly specialized training for health care professionals. By participating in the Kiss My Asana yogathon you join a global movement, but in a personal way. In other words, you practice yoga. Or, as this year’s tag line states….

do yoga. share yoga. help others.

***

“Every moment is an organizing opportunity, every person a potential activist, every minute a chance to change the world.”

– Delores Huerta (born April 10, 1930)

In some ways, it seems like Delores Huerta has been organizing workers since she was a child. She is a second generation Mexican-American whose parents started off as migrant workers and then divorced (when she was 3) and moved into positions where they could support the labor force – her father as a politician, her mother as the owner of a restaurant and hotel that welcomed a diverse population of low income and farm workers. Huerta was active in a variety of extracurricular activities during her school years and went on to teach elementary school; however, she said, “I couldn’t tolerate seeing kids come to class hungry and needing shoes. I thought I could do more by organizing farm workers than by trying to teach their hungry children.”

By the age of 25, Huerta was working to improve the economic status of Latinos in Stockton, California. In her 30’s, she co-founded an organization that set up voter registration drives and also co-founded the National Farm Workers Association with César Chávez. She is known for the motto “Si, se puede.” (Yes, we can.)

“When you have a conflict, that means there are truths that have to be addressed on each side of the conflict. And when you have a conflict, then it’s an educational process to try to resolve the conflict. And to resolve that, you have to get people on both sides of the conflict involved so that they can dialogue.”

– Delores Huerta

Conflict in the pages of a book can make for a good story. You get to see how things are resolved, usually in a nice neat little package with all the loose ends tied up into neat bows. Real life rarely works that way, and writing the good story where conflict arises and then gets resolved can be just as daunting and overwhelming as real life. And, as we’ve seen recently, it’s a lot of work to establish dialogue between people with viewpoints. It seems like an overwhelming amount of work to change the world.

We’ve all been there: overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the work yet to be done. It doesn’t matter if we are overwhelmed by the work because procrastination has placed us under a looming deadline or if someone presented us with an unrealistic timeline. It doesn’t matter if the amount of work is relatively small compared to something we’ve done in the past or will do in the future. Nor does it matter if the work is related to our profession, our passion, and/or life. In the moment, we sit in some variation of frozen; unable to do anything, let alone the first thing. And yet, just like when you’re playing a video game, the first thing is the key that unlocks the second thing…and so forth and so on. The first thing also gives you the tools to unlock the second thing.

“Thirty years ago my older brother, who was ten years old at the time, was trying to get a report on birds written that he’d had three months to write. [It] was due the next day. We were out at our family cabin in Bolinas, and he was at the kitchen table close to tears, surrounded by binder paper and pencils and unopened books on birds, immobilized by the hugeness of the task ahead. Then my father sat down beside him, put his arm around my brother’s shoulder, and said. ‘Bird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird.'”

**– excerpt from Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life by Ann Lamott (born April 10, 1954)**

Writer, activist, speaker, and teacher Anne Lamott used the story about her brother as the inspiration (and title) of her book Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life. The book is a writing course that is also, like all of Lamott’s work, a life course. And, both the story about her brother and her book, prove that my favorite adage from my first yoga teachers is also true about writing: How you do writing, is how you do life (and vice versa).

“A good sequence is like a good story. There is a beginning (an introduction), the middle (the heart of the story), and the end (the conclusion).

– Maty Ezraty

Building a yoga practice – or just creating a sequence – is just like developing a new habit. There is some part of us that knows how to do it, but if we’ve never done it before (or it’s been a long time), it seems mysterious, daunting, and overwhelming. Where to begin, or “Getting started” is Lamott’s first chapter. In it, she discusses the merit of telling the truth. In many ways, this is a very good place to start when you’re on the mat. Satya (Truth) is one of the yamas or external restraints (also known as universal commandments) in the 8-limbed philosophy of yoga. If you come to the mat without being honest about where you are (in your practice) and how you’re feeling, there’s a good chance you will hurt yourself. Being honest with your self is a challenge on the best days, but it especially challenging when the focus is moment-to-moment, breath-to-breath. In being honest with yourself, it is just as important to recognize your strengths as it is to recognize your weaknesses.

In the first chapter, Lamott also advises using one’s childhood as a starting place. This, it turns out, is also something we do in the physical practice of yoga. Every pose is an asana (seat) and therefore has a foundation or roots that need to be engaged in order to practice the pose. Additionally, the physical practice is also a mental practice as well as an emotional-energetic and psychic-symbolic practice. What that means is that (a) working the body requires working the mind and (b) each part of the body is energetically and symbolically tied to parts of history and lived experience. The lower body, which supports us for the majority of our lives, is connected to our “Root Chakra” and is related to our first family, tribe, and community of birth. I often explain this connection by saying, “Just as we are biologically connected to people we may not have ever met or will ever meet, we are also energetically connected. Unless you have a specific reason for starting elsewhere, the practice begins with the feet and legs. The beginning can be standing poses (which build strength, as well as flexibility), seated, or supine poses that address the lower body.

There are 29 chapters in Bird by Bird – and they all can be used to breakdown how one builds a practice, a sequence, and or a habit. I’m not going to break them all down at this time, but here’s a sample:

Chapter 2: “Short assignments” – In a vinyasa practice, where we’re moving with the breath it can be fun to string a ton of poses together and move one-breath-one motion. It can also be dangerous. Giving the body (and the mind) easily digestible bite-sized pieces, aka short assignments. Even if you are not practicing vinyasa, give the mind-body time to process the work you’re doing as you’re doing it. Poses like Equal Standing, Wide-legged Forward Fold, Child’s Pose, or a basic seated position like Easy Pose (Sukhasana) can be moments of transition where you pause and breathe. This is true even with vinyasa. (Remember, vinyasa means “to place in a special way” it does not mean “do pushups and a back bend.” You can practice one or two standing poses and then pause for a few breaths in one of the transitional poses before continuing to your next “short assignment.” One really cool rule of thumb I was given during teacher training is to look at the “one-breath-one-motion” idea as changing a single plane or angle within the body. (For example, moving from Warrior II (Happy Warrior variation) to Triangle or Extended Side Angle makes sense in the body, because the feet, legs, hips, and heart stay in the same horizontal plane – and rotation. Moving from Warrior II (Happy Warrior variation) to Warrior III makes less sense because you are changing horizontal and vertical plane orientations, plus changing the body’s rotation.)

“I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work.”

– Thomas Edison (in developing a practical electric light bulb)

“How many worthwhile endeavors are cast along the wayside because we are not guaranteed total success? Yet the result of inaction due to fear of failure is failure by default.”

– Aliza Kramer (writing about the Chanukah story)

“Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor.”

– Anne Lamott

Chapters 3, 4, & 18: “Shitty first drafts,” “Perfectionism,” & “Jealousy” (respectively) – It’s very rare that we get something “perfect” the first time around. That’s part of the reason we “practice” yoga instead of “doing” yoga. It’s also challenging to find yourself in a room full of people who seem to know what they’re doing. It’s easy – too easy – to discount the fact that they once started at the beginning and didn’t know what they were practicing. It’s easy – too easy – to discount their hard work and assume that they are naturally strong, flexible, and or coordinated. Jealous comparisons prevent us from seeing the work of others, and also from doing our own work. Consider each time you step on the mat as a workshop moment, where you find ways not to do something and ways to go deeper.

Chapter 13: “How do you know when you’re done?” – One of the things I love about practicing yoga is that you’re never done. There’s always something to learn about yourself and the practice. There’s always some new challenge that can be built on your foundation. And, it’s fun to see what happens next. That being said, no one can be on their mat 24/7. At some point every practice session comes to its conclusion. If you look at the lower body as your first chakra (or energy wheel) and think of each chakra as a “short assignment,” then you work your way up the body and finish when you reach the crown chakra at the top of your head. Another way to know when you’re done is to break up your “short assignments” with a transitional pose where you can sit and breathe for a moment. Since the ultimate goal of the physical practice is to prepare the mind-body for deep seated meditation, use the transitional pose to assess the mind-body, in order to determine how close you are to stillness. You can be “done” when every part of your body and mind feels stable and at ease enough to be still for 5 or more minutes.

Chapters 21, 22, & 24: “Writing groups,” “Someone to read your drafts,” & “Writer’s block” (respectively) – Sharing your writing with a group is similar to sharing your practice with a group. There is a little extra boost of energy and momentum that comes from people engaged in the same thing at the same time. There is power in the group that can help us go farther than we might on our own. Practicing yoga or writing in a group, especially when people are at different levels, gives everyone an opportunity to learn and grow by considering other perspectives. It can also be helpful – when you’re working on those “shitty first drafts” – to have an outside pair of eyes, someone who can view your practice as it is and as it develops. Ultimately, this is the role of the teacher – someone who can encourage you to continue on your path, make suggestions when you seem to be falling off the path, and offer you next steps you may not have considered. Also, when you feel stuck or blocked, as we all sometimes feel, the teacher, as well as your group, can support you as you step back and take child’s pose for a moment or consider another perspective, maybe even a different way of practicing.

“Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: you don’t give up.”

– Anne Lamott

FEATURED POSE for April 10^th: Crow & Crane (Kākkāsana & Bakāsana)

As I mention during classes on St. Patrick’s Day, there are a lot of bird poses in the physical practice of yoga. There are legit birds, as well as imaginary and mythical birds. There are birds that fly great distances and those that are along for the ride. One of the most ubiquitous poses inspired by a bird is “Crow Pose.” As I have pointed out in the past, there are some translation issues when it comes to this pose that accessible to people who may not realize it is in their wheelhouse (meaning something they can practice). “Crow” in Sanskrit is Kākkā – which sounds a lot like a crow, but it also sounds a lot like “kaka” which is slang for $^*+ and something a lot of English-speaking teachers are reticent to say in yoga. On the flip side bakāsana, the word we often use for “Crow Pose” is actually “Seat of the Crane.” Adding to the confusion, Kākkāsana is the prep for Bakāsana (and therefore, more accessible).

If you want to skip the arm balance as an arm balance, you can do the actual pose on your back or prep it in a squat. You can also use props to help with balance. The squatting variation is the only one that is prenatal approved.

Before moving into today’s featured pose, give yourself some short assignments that warm-up the body (Sun Salutations or cat/cow if you are practicing in the squat or on your back); strengthen and lengthen the legs (standing, seated, or supine poses for the legs); create flexibility in the hips; engage the core muscles; broaden the chest area; and strengthen the arms and wrists. When you’re ready to move into the pose, consider each part of the body as its own species of bird.

From your starting position, open the knees as wide as or wider than the hips. Feet can be together or apart, but make a choice and spread the toes wide. Lengthen the low back and sacrum (the flat part of the back), by lifting the pubic bone up on inhale and letting the sit-bones and ribs reach away from one another. Engage your core. Bend your elbows and bring them into your side body so that the elbows are hugging your ribs. This begins to engage anterior serratus, so when you feel muscles squeezing along your rib cage, see if you can actively tighten in that area. Bring your hands to the floor (or the ceiling, depending on your perspective). With elbows bent back and squeezing in, you want your upper body to engage as if you are going into Chaturanga Dandasana. Rise up to your tip toes so that you can place the knees into the armpits. If you are balancing on your hands, knees actively rest on the backs of the arms. If you are on your back, if feels more like your elbows are resting on your thighs. In all variations, keep your shoulders relaxed.

From standing, you can step your feet up onto a block (behind and under your hips) or shift your body forward and back – not to get momentum, but to check the placement of your hands and arms. Once you have established a solid foundation, shift the weight (so that the toes are barely on the floor) and zip up (meaning spread your toes, squeeze your perineum muscles like you’re trying not to go to the bathroom, and draw the belly button up and back). As you engage the core, the feet float up – don’t panic!

If you are on your back or in the squat, still engage your core and lengthen your spine.

When the elbows are bent this is typically referred to as “Crow Pose.” If you can consistently balance in “Crow Pose,” squeeze everything into your midline and start to straighten the arms. This is typically “Crane Pose.”

Focus on letting your heart soar!

Feel free to play around a little bit and then finish out your practice with a gentle wrist stretch, maybe a Forward Fold with Chest Expansion or that “Gorilla Pose” from last week. Finally, spend some time in Corpse Pose (Savasana) or any neutral pose where you can be still and quiet for at least 5 minutes.

A Joyful Practice

Looking Around At All the Believers (the “missing” Saturday post) April 12, 2025

— quoted from the poem “How Things Work” by Gary Soto

“How strange that we can begin at any time. With two feet we get down the street. With a hand we undo the rose. With an eye we lift up the peach tree And hold it up to the wind – white blossoms At our feet. Like today. I started”

— quoted from the poem “Looking Around, Believing” by Gary Soto

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

— quote attributed to Stuart Chase, economist, social theorist, author

— quoted from A Year of Daily Offerings by Rev. James Kubicki

— Rabbi Mordechai Becher, in vlog explaining one of several reasons why suffering exists

### What Do You Believe? ###

More Stories and Music [the 2025 version] (the “missing” Saturday post) March 22, 2025

“A good sequence is like a good story. There is a beginning (an introduction), the middle (the heart of the story), and the end (the conclusion)”

— Maty Ezraty

— Keegan-Michael Key, quoted from the (July 13, 2017) NPR interview entitled “‘You’re Never Too Old To Screw Up’: Keegan-Michael Key On ‘Friends From College’” by Kelly McEvers, Anjuli Sastry Krbechek

“Don’t you love farce? My fault, I fear I thought that you’d want what I want Sorry, my dear But where are the clowns? Quick, send in the clowns Don’t bothеr, they’re herе”

— quoted from the song “Send in the Clowns” from the musical A Little Night Music, music and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim, book by Hugh Wheeler

“‘When you convinced me not to quit, you said, and I quote, “If we are to help save the human race, we must recognize the humanity in all, no matter their station in life.”’”

— Charl speaking to Max and Isabl in Max Einstein: The Genius Experiment by James Patterson and Chris Grabenstein

So, across these creative fields, white men — about 30% of the American population — consistently receive nearly half of all writing opportunities.”

— Keegan-Michael Key, quoted from the (Feb 1, 2012) MovieWeb interview entitled “Keegan-Michael Key and Jordan Peele Talk Key & Peele Series Premiere [Exclusive]” by B. Alan Orange

### Enjoy Your Story & Share Your Stories ###

How The Stories Unfold (the “missing” Sunday post with links, for context) March 26, 2024

“A good sequence is like a good story. There is a beginning (an introduction), the middle (the heart of the story), and the end (the conclusion)”

— Maty Ezraty

“It is perfectly true, as the philosophers say, that life must be understood backwards. But they forget the other proposition, that it must be lived forwards.”

— quoted from Journals (IV A 164), 1843 by Søren Kierkegaard

“‘I will enlighten you and instruct you which way [to go]; I will wink My eye to you.’”

— King David, quoted from Tehillim – Psalms (32:8)

“Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?”

— The Gospel According to Matthew (6:26, NIV)

He said it reminded him of the message of the prophets, whose primary concern was social injustice, and of his Hasidic forebears, for whom compassion for the suffering of other people defined a religious person.”

— quoted from an article about the 40th Anniversary of the Selma-Montgomery marches, by Dr. Susannah Heschel

“In Selma as elsewhere we seek and pray for peace. We seek order. We seek unity. But we will not accept the peace of suppressed rights, or the order imposed by fear, or the unity that stifles protest. For peace cannot be purchased at the cost of liberty.

In Selma tonight, as in every city, we are working for just and peaceful settlement.”

— quoted from “Special Message to the Congress on Voting Rights and the American Promise,” original draft by Richard Goodwin; delivered by President Lyndon B. Johnson, March 15, 1965

— quoted from “8. Diaspora revisions: rethinking Exodus and rethinking God – Entering the fray: Esther as a political book” in Esther in Ancient Jewish Thought by Aaron Koller

### LET US GO FORTH IN PEACE ###

Take Another Look at Yourself (the “missing” Sunday post, which is a “renewed” post ) March 30, 2023

“Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,

That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,

And spills the upper boulders in the sun;

And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.”

– quoted from the poem “Mending Wall” by Robert Frost

“The violets in the mountains have broken the rocks. The world thirsts after sympathy, compassion, love.”

– quoted from the play Camino Real by Tennessee Williams (The first sentence is also the epitaph on his grave.)

“Something we were withholding made us weak Until we found out that it was ourselves We were withholding from our land of living, And forthwith found salvation in surrender.”

– quoted from the poem “The Gift Outright” by Robert Frost

“What is straight? A line can be straight, or a street, but the human heart, oh, no, it’s curved like a road through mountains.”

– quoted from the play “A Streetcar Named Desire” by Tennessee Williams

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,”

– quoted from the poem “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost

– quoted from the poem “Mending Wall” by Robert Frost

“Lonely . . . When so many are lonely as seem to be lonely, it would be inexcusably selfish to be lonely alone.”

– Don Quixote in the Prologue to Camino Real by Tennessee Williams

– quoted from the essay “The Figure a Poem Makes” by Robert Frost (which served as an introduction to his Collected Poems beginning with the 1939 edition)

“To me, its meaning is simple. The hard, the cold, the oppressive will—at long last—be broken apart by a force that is beautiful, natural, colorful, alive.”

– Patricia Clarkson explaining why she was quoting Tennessee Williams during a 2009 HRC New Orleans Dinner speech

### HEART-SUFFICIENT ###

Auspicious and Holy Stories (the “missing” Wednesday post) March 22, 2023

“A good sequence is like a good story. There is a beginning (an introduction), the middle (the heart of the story), and the end (the conclusion)”

– Maty Ezraty

– Tom Robbins quoted in the Reality Sandwich article “The Syntax of Sorcery: An Interview with Tom Robbins” by Tony Vigorito (posted online June 6, 2012)

“Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, left the Jordan and was led by the Spirit into the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing during those days, and at the end of them he was hungry.”

– quoted from The Gospel According to St. Luke (4:1-2, NIV)

“I know I’m waiting Waiting for something Something to happen to me But this waiting comes with Trials and challenges Nothing in life is free”

“My Lord, show me right from wrong Give me light, make me strong I know the road is long Make me strong”

– quoted from the song “Make Me Strong” by Sami Yusuf

“Lord Ram gave Hanuman a quizzical look and said, ‘What are you, a monkey or a man?’ Hanuman bowed his head reverently, folded his hands and said, ‘When I do not know who I am, I serve You and when I do know who I am, You and I are One.’”

– quoted from the epic Sanskrit poem Ramacharitmanas (Lake of the Deeds of Rama) by Goswami Tulsidas

“Practicing yoga is a privilege. And with this privilege comes a duty to be kind, to share a smile, and to offer yoga from the mat into the rest of your life.”

– Maty Ezraty

### Unity yields Equity and Equality ###

Sitting, Breathing… in a Room [the “missing” Tuesday post] January 26, 2022

Coda:

“surājye dhārmike deśe subhikṣhe nirupadrave |dhanuḥ pramāṇa-paryantaṃ śilāghni-jala-varjite |ekānte maṭhikā-madhye sthātavyaṃ haṭha-yoghinā || 12 ||

– quoted from “Chapter 1. On Āsanas” of the Haţha Yoga Pradipika, translated by Pancham Sinh (1914)

“… a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction…”

– quoted from the essay “A Room of One’s Own,” as it appears in A Room of One’s Own And, Three Guineas by Virginia Woolf

“athāsane dṝdhe yoghī vaśī hita-mitāśanaḥ |ghurūpadiṣhṭa-mārgheṇa prāṇāyāmānsamabhyaset || 1 ||

“How strange that we can begin at any time.
With two feet we get down the street.
With a hand we undo the rose.
With an eye we lift up the peach tree
And hold it up to the wind – white blossoms
At our feet. Like today. I started”

“Don’t you love farce?
My fault, I fear
I thought that you’d want what I want
Sorry, my dear
But where are the clowns?
Quick, send in the clowns
Don’t bothеr, they’re herе”

— Keegan-Michael Key, quoted from the (Feb 1, 2012) MovieWeb interview entitled “Keegan-Michael Key and Jordan Peele Talk Key & Peele Series Premiere [Exclusive]” by
B. Alan Orange

— quoted from an article about the 40^th Anniversary of the Selma-Montgomery marches, by Dr. Susannah Heschel

“Something we were withholding made us weak
Until we found out that it was ourselves
We were withholding from our land of living,
And forthwith found salvation in surrender.”

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

“I know I’m waiting
Waiting for something
Something to happen to me
But this waiting comes with
Trials and challenges
Nothing in life is free”

“My Lord, show me right from wrong
Give me light, make me strong
I know the road is long
Make me strong”

“surājye dhārmike deśe subhikṣhe nirupadrave |
dhanuḥ pramāṇa-paryantaṃ śilāghni-jala-varjite |
ekānte maṭhikā-madhye sthātavyaṃ haṭha-yoghinā || 12 ||

“athāsane dṝdhe yoghī vaśī hita-mitāśanaḥ |
ghurūpadiṣhṭa-mārgheṇa prāṇāyāmānsamabhyaset || 1 ||

“evaṃ vidhe maṭhe sthitvā sarva-chintā-vivarjitaḥ |
ghurūpadiṣhṭa-mārgheṇa yoghameva samabhyaset || 14 ||

“vapuḥ kṝśatvaṃ vadane prasannatā
nāda-sphuṭatvaṃ nayane sunirmale |
aroghatā bindu-jayo|aghni-dīpanaṃ
nāḍī-viśuddhirhaṭha-siddhi-lakṣhaṇam || 78 ||