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 12th, 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 12th) 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? ###
Suffering & Hope (the “missing” Tuesday compilation) April 23, 2024
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Bhakti, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Donate, Faith, Healing Stories, Hope, Karma Yoga, Lent / Great Lent, Life, Love, Meditation, Music, Mysticism, One Hoop, Pain, Passover, Peace, Philosophy, Religion, Riḍván, Suffering, Volunteer, Wisdom, Yoga.Tags: Buddha, chesed, Counting the Omer, Exodus, Feast of Unleavened Bread, Four Noble Truths, Four Questions, Hope, Hopelandic, Isaiah, jónsi, Jesus, kabbalah, Ma Nishtana, Moses, Nahshon, Passover, Pesach, quantum mechanics, Rabbi David Fohrman, Rabbi Mordechai Becher, Riḍván, Ridvan, Sarah Kendzior, seder, Shemot, Shlomo Yitzchaki (Rashi), Siddhartha, sigur rós, Universal House of Justice, Vonlenska, Yeshayahu, Yoga Sutras 1.30-1.32, Yoga Sutras 2.10-2.11, Yoga Sutras 2.2-2.9
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“Chag Sameach!” to everyone celebrating Passover and/or Counting the Omer (tonight)! Happy Riḍván!” to those celebrating “the Most Great Festival.” Many blessings to everyone, and especially to anyone observing Great Lent! Happy National Poetry Month!
This is the “missing” post for Tuesday, April 23rd. It is a compilation post, which includes a little bit of new content mixed with previously posted content. You can request an audio recording of this 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). You can still click here to Kiss My Asana Now! (Or, you can also click here to join my team and get people to kiss [your] asana!)
Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.
Check out the “Class Schedules” calendar for upcoming classes.
“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
Take a close look at every major religion and philosophy, as well as all medical sciences, and we find the same two ends of a common thread: people suffer and people want their suffering to end. In the Yoga Sutras, Patanjali outlined the 8-Limbed Yoga Philosophy as a way to alleviate current suffering and prevent future suffering. He also described several obstacles and ailments from which people may suffer (YS 1.30-1.31); dysfunctional/afflicted thought patterns that lead to suffering (YS 2.2-2.9); and specifically pointed to meditation as a way to overcome the (YS 1.32 and YS 2.10-2.11).
Unfortunately, the caste system in India prevented some people from practicing Yoga. I have heard that Siddhartha Gautama was aware of the Yoga Philosophy, and probably practiced it, but — in large part because of the caste system — found that it wasn’t practical. So, he sat under the Bodhi tree and was determined to wait there until he awakened to the nature of reality. In some suttas, it says that the Buddha (“the Awakened One”) sat there for an additional seven days. Eventually, he started teaching from this enlightened state. Some say that he only ever taught about two things: suffering and the end of suffering. His teachings were codified in the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism and the Noble Eightfold Path. According to the former:
- Suffering exists
- Suffering is caused by attachment, clinging, craving
- There is an end to suffering
- The Noble Eight-fold Path is the way to end suffering
Following these paths includes some sitting… and waiting. What is promised at the end of the sitting and waiting is freedom from suffering. What we find in the middle is hope.
If we take another look at the major religions and philosophies, we find sacred stories about people suffering and waiting for the end of suffering; hoping for the alleviation of suffering. Just as it is interesting to note what people did (in the stories) to maintain hope and keep the faith while they were “waiting,” it is interesting to note how people observing Passover, Riḍván, and Great Lent find hope in these stories.
“What makes this night different from all [other] nights?
1) On all nights we need not dip even once, on this night we do so twice?
2) On all nights we eat chametz or matzah, and on this night only matzah?
3) On all nights we eat any kind of vegetables, and on this night maror?
4) On all nights we eat sitting upright or reclining, and on this night we all recline?”
— The Four Questions (“Ma Nishtana”)
“How is this practice different from all the other practices?” is a question you can ask before any practice. It is also a question that sounds a lot like “The Four Questions” traditionally asked by the youngest person at a Passover Seder. The word seder is a Hebrew word that means “order” or “arrangement,” and it refers to the ritual feast that people in the Jewish community have on the first night of Passover (or first two nights for Orthodox and Conservative communities outside of Israel). The meal is a symbolic celebration of the Exodus story, which is the story of how the Jews were freed from slavery in Egypt. Really, the meal is the story — beginning with the questions, which are also symbolic.
Passover, which is also called Pesach and The Feast of Unleavened Bread, is considered a spring festival. In ancient times, it was directly connected to the harvesting and offering of barley — which was the first grain to ripen and harvest in the Holy Land. For seven days (eight days for the Orthodox and Conservative communities, especially in the diaspora), people commemorate the story of Exodus, which is a story of faith, suffering, and hope.
The ritual observation actually begins before the Passover Seder, with the removal of chametz (“leavening”), as it is forbidden to consume, keep, or own chametz during Passover. Some forms or chametz will be burned; other forms can be given away or even sold. Keep in mind that the agents of “rising” or fermentation are not forbidden. In fact, wine is a required part of the celebration. However, the action of rising is symbolic and part of the story (NOTE Question 2: Where the Jews have to flee so fast their bread doesn’t have time to rise.)
Another part of the story and another ritual that occurs before the Passover Seder is the Fast of the Firstborn, which falls on the day before the evening of the Passover Seder (with adjustments made when Passover begins on a Saturday night — which is the end of the Sabbath). Again, this is a symbolic element of the story as first-born sons (and “newborn” sons) play critical roles in the Exodus story.
“The Lord saw that he had turned to see, and God called to him from within the thorn bush, and He said, ‘Moses, Moses!’ And he said, ‘Here I am!’”
— Shemot – Exodus 3:4
The Passover story comes with a backstory — and is, itself, the backstory (and the backdrop) for the Passion/Easter story. According to Shemot / Exodus, an Egyptian pharaoh first oppressed and then enslaved the Jewish people. He also ordered all Hebrew newborn sons to be killed. For a while, the midwives and the Jewish mothers circumvented Pharaoh’s order. Then, he ordered all the newborn sons to be thrown in the river. Jochebed, Moses’ birth mother, hid her son for three months. Then, she very cleverly placed him in a basket in the river and sent her daughter, Miriam, to watch the baby in the basket. When Pharaoh’s daughter scooped up the baby — who she would eventually name “Moses… ‘For I drew him from the water’” — Miriam offered to secure a wet nurse (who was, of course, Jochebed, their mother). In this way, Moses grew up as the Pharaoh’s grandson and, also, grew up knowing he was Jewish.
At the age of 40, Moses stepped in to protect a Jewish man who was being beaten by an Egyptian and had to flee his home. When he was 80, he was confronted by G-d (in the form of the burning bush) and commanded to return to Egypt and speak to Pharaoh about freeing the Jewish people. Theoretically, Moses was also 80 when he received the Torah, G-d’s truth for his people, and he was 120 when he died – but that’s a story for a different day.
“And He said, ‘For I will be with you, and this is the sign for you that it was I Who sent you. When you take the people out of Egypt, you will worship God on this mountain.’”
— quoted from Shemot – Exodus (3:12)
“God said to Moses, ‘Ehyeh asher ehyeh (I will be what I will be),’ and He said, ‘So shall you say to the children of Israel, “Ehyeh (I will be) has sent me to you.’””
— quoted from Shemot – Exodus (3:14)
In some ways, Moses was the perfect person to be the (human) hero of the story. However, he was humble to the point of lacking confidence. He did not want to give the Jewish people false hope and so he repeatedly asked who/what was commanding him. Rabbi David Fohrman, quoting Shlomo Yitzchaki, the medieval French rabbi known as Rashi, points out that when G-d initial spoke to Moses and Moses asked for G-d’s identity, Moses was told three times that the One who spoke was the One who would always be with Moses and the Jewish people. Regardless of what they experience, Rashi explained, G-d will be with them. This is the very definition of compassion, which literally means “to suffer with.”
Moses’ humility and lack of confidence led him to seek the assistance of his brother Aaron. Of course, the Pharaoh did not believe in the G-d of Abraham and Moses. As a show of power, Aaron’s staff was turned into a snake. Pharaoh was not impressed and pointed out that he had magicians who could do the same “magic trick.” Even the fact that the brothers’ snake ate the other snakes was not enough for Pharaoh.
When the initial show of power didn’t convince Pharaoh of the authority of G-d, everyone was subject to nine plagues: blood, frogs, lice, wild beasts in the streets, pestilence, boils, hail, locusts, and day(s) of darkness. Remember: It was not only Pharaoh and the Egyptians who suffered. The Jews, who were already suffering the hardship of slavery, also had to endure the additional hardships. In other words, they were asked to endure more suffering, but to have faith that this period of more suffering would end with the alleviation of their suffering. Perhaps they found hope in a critical — but not often highlighted — aspect of the Ten Plagues: they not only started on command, they also ended on command.
On the evening of the tenth plague, the death of the first born male child, the Jewish families were told to smear lambs blood on their doors — so their households will be passed over. They were also commanded to celebrate and give thanks for their freedom — even though they are still slaves.
Yes, it is a little mind boggling; but, what passes as the first Passover Seder happened in Egypt and during a time of slavery. Considering Pharaoh had changed his mind before, they had no way of knowing (with any certainty) that they would be freed immediately after the tenth plague. See where this is going? In that moment, the Jewish people who chose to believe and celebrate were like the quantum mechanics Cat: simultaneously free and not free.
“When you pass through water, I am with you, and in rivers, they shall not overflow you; when you go amidst fire, you shall not be burnt, neither shall a flame burn amongst you.”
— quoted from Yeshayahu (Isaiah) (43:2)
“So said the Lord, who made a way in the sea, and a path in the mighty waters.”
— quoted from Yeshayahu (Isaiah) (43:16)
The people in the Passover story were told that the must have faith and follow the instructions of G-d in order to to be passed over and saved. They also had free will. So, it is important to note that not everyone celebrated the first Passover — neither did everyone flee when given the opportunity. It is also important to remember that celebrating freedom that had not yet been given/experienced was not the last time people in the Passover story had to keep the faith, hope, believe, and (with free will) act accordingly. There was a moment, after Pharaoh was compelled by the tenth plague to release the Jewish people (and after his heart hardened once again), when the Jewish people were between the tumultuous sea and Pharaoh’s army. According to the Midrash, talmudic commentary, Nahshon, believed that G-d would save the Jewish people and, therefore, waded into the water. It was his faith and his faith-based actions that caused G-d to turn the tide.
In modern times, this second night of Passover is when people begin Counting the Omer in Jewish mysticism (Kabbalah). Counting the Omer is a 49-day observation which reflects the days the newly freed Jews were in the desert and segues into the commemoration of the people receiving the Torah. When people Count the Omer there is an extra element of prayer, of offering, and also of contemplation on two connected elements of the Divine (from the Tree of Life). One the first night, the connected elements are Chesed She b’Chesed (“Lovingkindness in Lovingkindness”).
Divine love and the observation of Passover link the Jewish observations with the Christian observations of Lent and Great Lent, because, historically speaking, Jesus was a Jewish teacher or rabbi, who returned home to Jerusalem for Passover. The Gospel According to Saint John (12:1) is the only New Testament gospel that specifically refers to Passover as a reference point for the beginning of the last week of Jesus’ life. However, all four of the canonical gospels mention preparation for the festival, feast, or first day (depending on the translation) of “Unleavened Bread” and describe a jubilant and memorable moment where Jesus rode into town on a donkey (a symbol of peace) and was greeted by people who honored him by laying down palm fronds (and possibly coats) to cover his path. In Christian communities, Palm Sunday or Passion Sunday is the final Sunday of Lent / Great Lent and marks Christians’ final preparation for Easter.
In addition to people around the world observing Passover, Counting the Omer, and Great Lent, there are people around the world celebrating the twelve-day festival of Riḍván, one of the holiest times within the Bahá’í community, is celebrated during the second month and begins exactly one Gregorian-month after the new year. This “Most Great Festival” in the Baháʼí Faith commemorates the time that the founder of the Bahá’i Faith, Bahá’u’lláh, waited in the original garden of Riḍván prior to being exiled to Constantinople. His declarations in the garden gave people hope and, during these modern day celebrations, the Universal House of Justice issues an annual Riḍván message and holds elections. These messages are reflections meant to inspire hopeful, faith-based actions.
“The urgency of the present hour must not obscure the special joy that comes from service. The call to service is an uplifting, all-embracing summons. It attracts every faithful soul, even those weighed down by cares and obligations. For in all the ways in which that faithful soul is occupied can be discovered deep-rooted devotion and a lifelong concern for the well-being of others. Such qualities give coherence to a life of manifold demands. And the sweetest moments of all for any enkindled heart are those spent with spiritual sisters and brothers, tending to a society in need of spiritual nourishment.”
— quoted from the Riḍván 2022 message from the Universal House of Justice “To the Bahá’is of the World”
CLICK HERE and scroll down to the “ENTERING THE GARDEN” section for information about Riḍván.
“People ask me how I find hope. I answer that I don’t believe in hope, and I don’t believe in hopelessness. I believe in compassion and pragmatism, in doing what is right for its own sake. Hope can be lethal when you are fighting an autocracy because hope is inextricable from time. An enduring strategy of autocrats is to simply run out the clock.”
— quoted from Hiding in Plain Sight by Sarah Kendzior
Serendipitously, I received two texts from the same Austin suburb (on April 11, 2020). One was from a friend, sharing the Sarah Kendzior quote (above). The other was from my brother, asking why people were celebrating the same thing at different times. The short answer to my brother’s question is that it comes down to calendars and how people tell their stories (i.e., what is emphasized). A longer answer is all of these blog posts and classes, which come back to the fact that not everyone finds hope in the same place and/or in the same way.
At the end of the day (and often at the end of the practice), there are people whose faith and hope comes not from religion or spiritual philosophies, but from nature and even from other people. Just as some people are inspired by stories in sacred texts, scriptures, and history, there are many who are inspired by stories in songs — and/or the backstory of songs. While I typically offer a playlist with songs that, in and of themselves, tell the stories, this Tuesday’s playlist is a little different. Instead of songs that tell the story, it is a playlist mostly comprised of music by sigur rós.
On some albums, jónsi, who was born today in 1975, sings in Icelandic. On the third album, however, he sings in an imaginary language known as Vonlenska. Vonlenska, as identified by a journalist, first appeared in the ninth track of the band’s debut album. The song is called “Von,” the Icelandic word for “hope.” Hence the name: Volenska. Hopelandic.
Hopelandic. How can you not love that name, or the idea of a place where the native language is hope?
Just like the track “18 sekúndur fyrir sólarupprás” (“18 Seconds before Sunrise”), the music and the language remind me of Rabbi Mordechai Becher’s thoughts on free will, suffering, and being creators. They remind me that in between the suffering and the end of suffering, there is an empty space that we can fill with hope or with more suffering. That hope can be the silence of meditation or it can be the “gibberish” that serves as a placeholder for the beauty to come.
“it’s of course not an actual language by definition (no vocabulary, grammar, etc.), it’s rather a form of gibberish vocals that fits to the music and acts as another instrument. jónsi likens it with what singers sometimes do when they’ve decided on the melody but haven’t written the lyrics yet.”
— from the faq section of the sigur rós website
Tuesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “04232023 The Language of Hope”]
NOTE: Since this is not the music we typically use for the aforementioned holidays, feel free to email or message me for a different playlist.
### VON / HOPE ###
Suffering & Hope (mostly the blessings and music) April 23, 2024
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Donate, Faith, Healing Stories, Hope, Karma Yoga, Lent / Great Lent, Life, Music, Mysticism, One Hoop, Pain, Passover, Peace, Philosophy, Religion, Riḍván, Suffering, Volunteer, Wisdom, Yoga.Tags: Counting the Omer, jónsi, Passover, Rabbi Mordechai Becher, Riḍván, Ridvan, Sarah Kendzior, sigur rós
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“Chag Sameach!” to everyone celebrating Passover and/or Counting the Omer (tonight)! Happy Riḍván!” to those celebrating “the Most Great Festival.” Many blessings to everyone, and especially to anyone observing Great Lent! Happy National Poetry Month!
“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
Please join me today (Tuesday, April 23rd) at 12:00 PM or 7:15 PM for a yoga practice on Zoom. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Tuesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “04232023 The Language of Hope”]
NOTE: This is not the music we typically use for the aforementioned holidays. Please let me know if you are looking for a different playlist.
“People ask me how I find hope. I answer that I don’t believe in hope, and I don’t believe in hopelessness. I believe in compassion and pragmatism, in doing what is right for its own sake. Hope can be lethal when you are fighting an autocracy because hope is inextricable from time. An enduring strategy of autocrats is to simply run out the clock.”
— quoted from Hiding in Plain Sight by Sarah Kendzior
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). You can still click here to Kiss My Asana Now! (Or, you can also click here to join my team and get people to kiss [your] asana!)
Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.)
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Finding Grace In the Waiting, or vice versa (a “missing” and “renewed” Saturday/Sunday post) April 16, 2023
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Books, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Dharma, Faith, Gratitude, Healing Stories, Hope, Lent / Great Lent, Life, Music, Mysticism, One Hoop, Pain, Passover, Peace, Philosophy, Ramadan, Religion, Science, Shavuot, Suffering, Wisdom, Women, Yoga.Tags: Buddha, Buddha's Birthday, chesed, Counting the Omer, Erwin Schrödinger, Eugene Wigner, Exodus, Four Noble Truths, gevurah, Great Lent, Guy Johnston, Hilary Tann, Holy Saturday, Jack Hawley, James Kubicki, kabbalah, Laylat al-Qadr, Lazarus of Bethany, Lazarus Saturday, Lent / Great Lent, Martha of Bethany, Mary of Bethany, Passover, Pope Francis, R. S. Thomas, Rabbi David Fohrman, Rabbi Mordechai Becher, Ramadan, sefirot, shastra kripa, Shemot, Shiva, shiv’ah, Shlomo Yitzchaki (Rashi), Siddhartha, The Gospel According to John, the Virgin Mary, שִׁבְעָה, שבעה
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Blessings to anyone Counting the Omer or celebrating Easter and Eastertide / the Octave of Easter! “Ramadān Mubarak, Blessed Ramadān!” to anyone who is observing the holy month of Ramadān. (Keep your eyes open!)
This is the “missing” and slightly revised post for Saturday, April 8th, which was the 2023 Saturday before Easter in Western Christian traditions and Lazarus Saturday in the Orthodox Christian traditions, as well as Passover and the holy month of Ramadān. This is also an Easter post. NOTE: There are references to death and dying. You can request an audio recording of this Saturday practice and/or the Easter practice from 2020 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.)
“Still; all that close throng
Of spirits waiting, as I,
For the message.
Prompt me, God;
But not yet. When I speak,
Though it be you who speak
Through me, something is lost.
The meaning is in the waiting.”
– quoted from the poem “Kneeling” by R. S. Thomas, with accompanying music composed by Hilary Tann, featuring Guy Johnston
April marks the beginning of our Saturday exploration of the second of the four graces found in Indian philosophy, particularly in the Himalayan tradition of the Yoga Philosophy. We started with “Grace of God” (or Divine Grace) and we plan to end the year with Grace of Self. The second and third graces (Grace of Scripture and Grace of Guru) are often flipped and, in some ways, this practice connects the two. Mostly, however, this is about shastra kripa. In another practice (and post), I will get into why some traditions do not translate shastra as “scripture” and also why those tradition do not consider the scriptures I reference below as shastras. However, some do and, ultimately, the practice is about what we find inside the stories.
Pay close attention and you will find there is a lot of waiting – so much waiting – in the stories that people commemorate during Passover; the Saturday of Holy Week (which is the Saturday before Easter); Lazarus Saturday (which is the Saturday before Palm Sunday); and during the holy month of Ramadān. In 2023, all of those observations overlapped each other and overlapped some celebrations of the Buddha’s birthday – and there is significant waiting in the story of the Buddha. It is almost like there is something important about waiting. It is almost like there is something holy, something Divine, about waiting.
Waiting is something we all do at some point in our day-to-day lives – and it can be challenging. Whether we are waiting our turn or waiting for something for which we desire, we can get fidgety and impatient on the best days. We can be especially fidgety and impatient if we feel like nothing is happening or that something is not happening fast enough. But something is always happening; we just need to bring awareness to the moment.
This is where the waiting in yoga and meditation comes in handy: We can bring awareness to how we wait.
For instance, we may notice that we are so keen to do something that we start doing things that don’t actually serve us. We may even do things that are detrimental, because we don’t have the strength to wait. (And don’t doubt for a minute, that waiting, patiently, requires a certain kind of strength.) Additionally, we may notice that we are in the habit of saying, “I can’t wait,” when what we really mean is “I can hardly wait.” At first, the difference can seem like a matter of semantics, but then we notice that the mind-body is taking cues from our conscious awareness and that changing our inner dialogue (as well as what we verbalize to others) changes the way we show up in the moment. Over time, we may find that there can be kindness in waiting. We may notice that waiting sometimes gives us an opportunity to get ready for what’s ahead.
In fact, if you pay close attention, you will find that there is something important about what people do while they wait – especially in the sacred stories commemorated (this year) on April 8th.
“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
While some people celebrate the birthday of the Siddhartha Gautama, also known as Gautama Buddha, on different days in May, some celebrate on April 8th. I have heard that Siddhartha Gautama sat under the Bodhi tree and was determined to wait there until he awakened to the nature of reality. In some suttas, it says that the Buddha (“the Awakened One”) sat there for an additional seven days. Eventually, he started teaching from this enlightened state. Some say that he only ever taught about two things: suffering and the end of suffering. His teachings were codified in the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism and the Noble Eightfold Path. According to the former:
- Suffering exists
- Suffering is caused by attachment, clinging, craving
- There is an end to suffering
- The Noble Eight-fold Path is the way to end suffering
Following the path includes some sitting… and waiting. What is promised at the end of the sitting and waiting is freedom from suffering.
Towards the end of the holy month of Ramadān, people in the Muslim community seek the holiest of nights, Laylat al-Qadr (translated as “Night of Power,” “Night of Destiny,” “Night of Value,” Night of Measure,” Night of Decree” or “Night of Honour”), which is commemorated as the anniversary of the revelations of the Qur’ān. As they seek (and wait) they pray. This pattern of people waiting for revelations (and freedom) shows up again and again in the other Abrahamic traditions.
For example, the story of Passover (which is summarized below), is the story of the Jewish people waiting to be free. Part of the story is also about waiting to be passed over during the 10th and final plague. Remember, that during most of the waiting, the Jewish people had to continue living their lives as enslaved people in Egypt. They had to suffer the indignities and hardships of slaver – and, also, the first nine plagues. They had to wait, with faith. Then, on that final night they had to wait and believe. They had to believe enough to celebrate freedom that had not been given. One the second night of Passover, some people begin Counting the Omer.
The sacred ritual of Counting the Omer is a period of 49 days, a total of 7 weeks, leading up to Shavuot or Shavuos (also known as the “Festival of Weeks”) – which itself is a commemoration of the Jewish people receiving the Torah. Commonly associated with Jewish mysticism (Kabbalah), the practice of Counting the Omer involves 7 of the 10 attributes of the Divine that are found on the Tree of Life. Each day is associated with a different attribute, as is each week – which means that for 49 days people are focusing-concentrating-meditating on the interrelation of two attributes. Since each attribute is associated with a different part of the body, and some people combine a physical component, it’s a ritual exercise wrapped in a mystical meditation disguised as a 49-day perspective changing challenge.
In some ways, Counting the Omer is a period of waiting. However, it is not the only time, in Jewish tradition, when people are praying and reflecting while they wait. Nor is it the only time when 7 is a factor. In fact, one of the notably periods 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.
“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
In the Gospel According to John (11:1 – 45), Jesus received the news that Lazarus was sick, but then waited (until he 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.
“This year however, we are experiencing, more than ever, the great silence of Holy Saturday. We can imagine ourselves in the position of the women on that day. They, like us, had before their eyes the drama of suffering, of an unexpected tragedy that happened all too suddenly. They had seen death and it weighed on their hearts. Pain was mixed with fear: would they suffer the same fate as the Master? Then too there was fear about the future and all that would need to be rebuilt. A painful memory, a hope cut short. For them, as for us, it was the darkest hour.
Yet in this situation the women did not allow themselves to be paralyzed. They did not give in to the gloom of sorrow and regret, they did not morosely close in on themselves, or flee from reality. They were doing something simple yet extraordinary: preparing at home the spices to anoint the body of Jesus. They did not stop loving; in the darkness of their hearts, they lit a flame of mercy. Our Lady spent that Saturday, the day that would be dedicated to her, in prayer and hope. She responded to sorrow with trust in the Lord. Unbeknownst to these women, they were making preparations, in the darkness of that Sabbath, for “the dawn of the first day of the week”, the day that would change history. Jesus, like a seed buried in the ground, was about to make new life blossom in the world; and these women, by prayer and love, were helping to make that hope flower. How many people, in these sad days, have done and are still doing what those women did, sowing seeds of hope! With small gestures of care, affection and prayer.”
– Homily of His Holiness Pope Francis, Easter Vigil, Holy Saturday, 11 April 2020
The following was originally posted in April 2020 and revised in April 2022 (in the “Down the Rabbit Hole” section). Some information was posted during Passover and holy week this year, but I am posting it here, For Those Who Missed It. This version has been slightly revised.
Whenever I think about Easter, the waiting that happened on the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter, and the moment when the rock was rolled away to reveal the empty tomb, I think of one thing: Wigner’s friend taking care of that quantum mechanics Cat.
For those of you not familiar with physicist Erwin Schrödinger’s thought experiment (or paradox), it goes like this: The (imaginary) cat is closed up in a box with an unstable radioactive element that has a 50-50 chance of killing the cat before the box is opened. According to quantum mechanics, there is a moment when the cat is simultaneously alive and dead. This is called superposition and it could be considered the scientific equivalent of non-duality. When the box is opened, revealing the state of the cat, the superposition collapses into a single reality. (There is also the possibility that opening the box changes the percentage, but that’s a whole different tunnel.)
Physicist Eugene Wigner took things a bit farther by adding a friend. According to the Wigner’s thought experiment, instead of doing the experiment, the scientist leaves it all in the hands of a friend and waits for a report. Now, there is the superposition inside of the box and there is a separate superposition inside the lab, which means the wave (or superposition) collapses into a single reality when the box is opened (creating reality as the friend knows it) and collapses again when the (imaginary) friend reports to the scientist (establishing the original scientist’s reality). Let’s not even get into what happens if the friend opens the box and leaves the lab without reporting back to the original scientist, but has a certain expectation – i.e., understanding of reality – about what the scientist will find in the lab. Through it all, the cat exists (and ceases to exist) within its own reality. It never experiences the superposition others experience. It just is.
That state of being, existing, takes us back to Passover, and eventually to the Resurrection of Jesus.
“And He said, ‘For I will be with you, and this is the sign for you that it was I Who sent you. When you take the people out of Egypt, you will worship God on this mountain.’”
– quoted from Shemot – Exodus (3:12)
“God said to Moses, ‘Ehyeh asher ehyeh (I will be what I will be),’ and He said, ‘So shall you say to the children of Israel, “Ehyeh (I will be) has sent me to you.’””
– quoted from Shemot – Exodus (3:14)
In the Exodus story, while the Jewish people were slaves in Egypt, G-d commanded Moses to go to Pharaoh and demand the Jews be released. Moses had an interesting backstory and was, in some ways, the perfect person to be the (human) hero of the story. However, he was humble to the point of lacking confidence and ended up asking his brother Aaron to come along on the mission. When their show of power didn’t convince Pharaoh of the authority of G-d, everyone was subject to nine plagues: blood, frogs, lice, wild beasts in the streets, pestilence, boils, hail, locusts, and day(s) of darkness. Remember it was not only Pharaoh and the Egyptians who suffered. The Jews, who were already suffering the hardship of slavery, also had to endure the additional hardships. On the evening of the tenth plague, the death of the first born male child, the Jewish families were told to smear lambs blood on their doors – so their households will be passed over. They were also commanded to celebrate and give thanks for their freedom – even though they are still slaves.
Yes, it is a little mind boggling, but what passes as the first Passover Seder happened in Egypt and during a time of slavery. Considering Pharaoh had changed his mind before, they had no way of knowing (with any certainty) that they would be freed immediately after the tenth plague. See where this is going? In that moment, the Jewish people are simultaneously free and not free.
Furthermore, Rabbi David Fohrman, quoting Shlomo Yitzchaki, the medieval French rabbi known as Rashi, points out that when G-d initial spoke to Moses and Moses asked for G-d’s identity, Moses was told three times that the One who spoke was the One who would always be with Moses and the Jewish people. Regardless of what they experience, Rashi explained, G-d will be with them. This is the very definition of compassion, which literally means “to suffer with.”
“‘Whenever goodness and “dharma” (right action) weaken and evil grows stronger, I make Myself a body. I do this to uplift and transform society, reestablish the balance of goodness over wickedness, explain the sublime plan and purpose of life, and serve as the model for others to follow. I come age after age in times of spiritual and moral crisis for this purpose.’”
– Krishna speaking to Arjuna (4.7 – 8) in The Bhagavad Gita: A Walkthrough for Westerners by Jack Hawley
Jesus was (during his time), and future Christians are, kind of in the same boat. In the last week of his life, he was betrayed, crucified, dead, buried, and resurrected – and he simultaneously was not. However, most of that is semantics. What is critical is the dead/buried, and resurrected part. In those moments, even right after the tomb was opened and there was some confusion about what had happened, Jesus was essentially the quantum physics Cat – and Christians, as well as non-believers, were either the original scientist or the friend.
Yet, when everything is said and done (stay with me here), this is all head stuff. What people observe, commemorate, and/or celebrate in modern times, isn’t really about the head. Faith never is. It’s all about the heart. It’s all about love. Specifically, in these examples, it all comes back to G-d’s love expressed as compassion.
“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”
– quoted from The Gospel According to John (3:16, NIV)
The playlist for Saturday (4/8/2023) is available on YouTube and Spotify.
### STRENGTH IN LOVING-KINDNESS ###
Remember Rachel’s Challenge, Especially When You’re Suffering (the “missing” Wednesday post) April 22, 2022
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Abhyasa, Baha'i, Books, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Faith, Food, Gratitude, Healing Stories, Hope, Japa, Japa-Ajapa, Lent / Great Lent, Life, Loss, Love, Meditation, Movies, Music, Mysticism, One Hoop, Pain, Passover, Peace, Philosophy, Poetry, Ramadan, Religion, Riḍván, Suffering, Tragedy, Vairagya, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: Abrahamic, arrows, Beresh't, Book of Job, Buddha, Columbine High School, Craig Scott, Earth Day, Exodus, Four Noble Truths, Genesis, Hanuman, Iyov, Jack Hawley, Job, John Steinbeck, Khalid, kriya yoga, Malachi, Mark Pettit, Metta, Moses, Mumford and Sons, Nahshon, P!nk, Pope Francis, Rabbi Mordechai Becher, Rachel Joy Scott, Sara Yoheved Rigler, Shemot, Taboo, The New Yorker, Thornton Wilder, Trace, yoga sutras
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“Chag Sameach!” “Happy Festival!” to anyone celebrating Passover. “Ramadān Mubarak, Blessed Ramadān!” to anyone who was observing the holy month of Ramadān. Many blessings to all, and especially to those celebrating or observing Great Week, Easter Week, Counting the Omer, Riḍván, and/or Earth Day!
This is A 3-in-1 “missing” post (with a coda) for Wednesday, April 20th. It features information on overlapping sacred traditions and also on an anti-bullying non-profit and is a bit of a “renewed” post (since it contains some previously posted material). You can request an audio recording of any of these practices via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
If you are following the Orthodox Christian calendar and would like a recording of last week’s classes, feel free to comment or email me.
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.)
“[Bridge: P!nk, Khalid & Both]
Hope floats away
If you could spend a day in my shoes
Your mind would change
If you knew what I’ve gone through
We want the same (Yeah, we do)
Maybe then you’d understand
How it hurts to be human, oh”
*
– quoted from the song “Hurts 2B Human” by P!nk, featuring Khalid
A lot of this week was devoted to the subject of suffering, on and off the mat. Sure, we all have friends that were suffering this week – and then there’s all the general suffering in the world. Because there is, and has always been, a lot of suffering in the world; there is, and has always been, a desire for the end of suffering. There is, and has always been, people actively seeking an end to suffering. That’s why there are so many paths, practices, and methods that – on some level – promise an end to suffering. That’s why there are so many really great books, poems, movies, plays, and songs about suffering and how people deal with suffering.
Suffering, it turns out, is interesting and inspiring.
One of the things I find interesting about humans and suffering is how often we tie our salvation to something more than ourselves and our own agency. What’s particularly interesting to me is that when we look at religious traditions (and philosophical traditions that are sometimes culturally religious), the teachings very specifically connect the end of suffering to our own agency and something more than ourselves… something divine, or Divine.
“[Chorus]
What if you were told that today
Was the last day of your life
Did you live it right?
Love is a gift you give away
And it reignites
Don’t wait, don’t let it pass you by
(don’t let it pass you by)”
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– quoted from the song “The Fight” by Taboo
Over the course of this week, all the Abrahamic religious traditions – and at least one tradition with ties to the Abrahamic religions – have been engaging in sacred celebrations and rituals that are tied to suffering and the end of suffering. Jewish communities have been celebrating Passover and, as of Sunday, some are also Counting the Omer. Western Christian communities (including Roman Catholics) observed Easter on Sunday and then, for some, Easter marked the beginning of the Octave of Easter (or Eastertide). On the flip side, this week marked the Holy Week or Great Week for people within Eastern Orthodox Christian communities. This month (in 2022) is also the holy month of Ramadān in Islām. Finally, Thursday marked the beginning of Riḍván in the Bahá’í community.
Since several of these holy observations started on Saturday, I’m going to point out that Hanuman Jayanti (or Hanuman Jannotsav) – which is celebrated in India, Nepal, and throughout the Hindu diaspora – also has a connection to suffering and the end of suffering. Oh, and then there’s Earth Day – which is not a religious holiday, per se, but is still connected to suffering on this planet, a desire to end that suffering, and the realization that the path to that freedom from suffering must come from a global community acting together… which would be divine.
Because everyone uses different calendars, this conflux doesn’t happen every year. Yes, there is usually an overlap between Passover and at least one Holy Week; however, this year is different. This year, these sacred times overlapped tragic anniversaries related to April 19th and 20th. This year, there’s more suffering and more awareness of the different ways we could/can/might end suffering – in ourselves and in the world around us.
There’s just one problem. Actually, there are several problems.
One, we don’t always pay attention to the right part of the stories. You know, the part where we have to practice what we preach, act in ways that are congruent to our beliefs, and – like Hanuman (or Nahshon) – take giant leaps (or wade in the water) in order to help and/or save others. Two, we sometimes forget that we are community; that while it may hurt 2b human, we have each other and we (can) have each other’s backs. We forget how breaking bread with someone (whether it be on Spy Wednesday or Easter Wednesday) can reveal the true nature of things. Finally, we all too often lash out at others when we are suffering.
Sometimes we lash out like Pharaoh – and our hardened hearts result in everyone being plagued with more and more suffering. Other times we are like Judas – and we lash out in ways that seem small, inconsequential, and petty; but have magnificent consequences. Then there are those times when our personal suffering is like that of Jesus’s followers who, once their suffering is alleviated by a striking realization, go on to share the good so that others may also find relief from their suffering.
All the stories told during this week’s holy observations and celebrations are reminders that we are in community – even when we are not in a religious community. While there are bullies and bad guys in these stories, there are also reminders that any one of us can make a good (meaningful) difference. We can be Moses or Aaron or Miriam or Nahshon. We can be any of the disciples or Marys or Martha or Joanna. We can be like Hanuman. We can be like Baháʼu’lláh, in that we bring communities together even as we are being separated.
Finally, we can be like Rachel Joy Scott whose legacy is a challenge. It’s not a religious challenge, it’s an existential challenge. It’s a challenge that could not only change your life, it could change the lives of those around you.
NOTE: Portions of the following were originally posted in 2020. However, I have revised and expanded some sections related to Moses and Passover.
“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
If you look back over this last week of blog posts, you will see a lot of different takes on suffering. So much suffering, in the midst of so much that is holy. I could point back to any number of quotes from this week’s post, any number of quotes from various traditions and belief systems. But, just focus on something simple…a simple list, the Four Noble Truths from Buddhism:
- Suffering exists
- Suffering is caused by attachment, clinging, craving
- There is an end to suffering
- The Noble Eight-fold Path is the way to end suffering
In the Passover story, Moses has similar experiences and a similar journey as Prince Siddhartha has in relation to Buddhism. (Both also have parallels to Arjuna’s experience at the center of the battlefield during The Bhagavad Gita.) There are some obvious differences, but let’s focus on the similarities for a moment. Both were raised in wealthy households, lived lives of privilege, experienced the suffering of others, and – instead of turning away, as some would do – both took the opportunity to alleviate themselves and others from suffering.
According to an oft quoted proverb, G-d is in the details – or, in the detail. And, it turns out, that the element of G-d is one of the big differences between the two stories. Another big difference is that while both heroes were raised in wealth, Moses was born a slave – and knew his connection to the Jewish people, people who were suffering. Prince Siddhartha, who becomes the Buddha (or “Enlightened One”), was 29 years old when he left the palace gates and saw suffering for the first time. At 35, when he became enlightened, the Buddha codified the 4 Noble Truths and began teaching. He died at the age of 80. This all happened in India, during the 6th Century (~563) BCE.
On the other hand, Moses was born into suffering during the 14th Century (placing Exodus between 1446 – 1406) BCE. Not only are the Jewish people, his people, enslaved when he is born, but because Pharaoh declared that all baby boys should be killed, Moses was born during greater than normal suffering. Theoretically, he always knew some amount of suffering existed. In fact, one way to look at Shemot / Exodus 2, is that Moses left the luxury of the palace specifically to witness the suffering of his first family, his tribe, his community of birth. He was 40 years old when he had to flee his home after stepping in to protect a Jewish man who was being beaten; and he was 80 when G-d (in the form of the burning bush) commanded him to return to Egypt and speak to Pharaoh about freeing the Jewish people. Theoretically, he was also 80 when he received the Torah, G-d’s truth for his people and he was 120 when he died.
Yoga Sutra 1.5: vŗttayah pañcatayyah klişțāklişțāh
– “The tendencies that cause the mind to fluctuate (or rotate) are fivefold, and are either afflicting or non-afflicting.”
Yoga Sutra 2.3: Avidyāmitārāgadveşābhiniveśāh kleśāh
– “Ignorance (or lack of knowledge), false sense of identity, attachment (rooted in pleasure), aversion (attachment rooted in pain), and fear of death or loss are the afflictions.”
In the Yoga Sutras, Patanjali outlined how the mind works and how to work the mind. The mind, he explained, has a tendency to wander, move around, and get caught up in those fluctuations. Those fluctuations are either afflicted or not afflicted – meaning some thoughts bring us pain/suffering and others alleviate or don’t cause pain/suffering. He went on to describe how afflicted thoughts cause nine obstacles, which lead to five conditions (or states of suffering). Eventually, he described exactly what he meant by “afflicted thoughts.” Throughout these first two chapters of the text, he gave examples on how to overcome the afflicted thoughts; on how to alleviate the suffering they cause; and on how to overcome the obstacles and painful states of suffering. His recommendation: Various forms of meditation.
One technique Patanjali suggested (YS 1.33) is offering loving-kindness/friendliness to those who are happy, compassion to those who are sad, happiness to those who are virtuous, and indifference to those who are non-virtuous. (Metta meditation is a great way to start this practice.) Knowing, however, that everyone can’t just drop into a deep seated meditation, Patanjali also offered physical techniques to prepare the mind-body for meditation. Those physical techniques are the physical practice.
I find the yoga philosophy particularly practical. But then again, I tell my own stories.
Historically speaking, Patanjali was in India compiling the Yoga Sutras, outlining the philosophy of yoga, during the Buddha’s lifetime. I have heard, that at some point in his life, the Buddha was aware of yoga – but that doesn’t mean he was aware of the yoga sutras, simply that he was aware of the lifestyle and the codes of that lifestyle. Perhaps he even had a physical practice. The Buddha, however, did not think the yoga philosophy was practical enough. In theory, this explains some of the parallels between yoga and Buddhism. It may also help explain why there are so many lists in Buddhism and why the Buddha taught in stories.
I have no knowledge of (and no reason to believe that) Moses knew anything about yoga, the yoga philosophy, or the sutras. However, he can be considered a “desert brother” or Jewish mystic for much of his adult life – meaning that he undoubtedly engaged in prayer, meditation, and contemplation. Even if he didn’t attribute certain aspects of the body to the aspects of the Divine that are found on the Tree of Life, and even if he didn’t physically move his body with the intention of connecting with G-d, Moses spent much of his adult life as a shepherd. As a shepherd, moving around the hills with his ship, Moses connected with nature and with G-d, which is the ultimate dream of some philosophers and truth seekers.
“Then Job stood up, and rent his robe and tore his hair; then he fell to the ground and prostrated himself. And he said, ‘From my mother’s womb, I emerged naked, and I will return there naked. The Lord gave and the Lord took; may the name of the Lord be blessed.’”
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– Job, upon learning that how much he’s lost in a single moment (Iyov / The Book of Job 1.20-21)
Moses probably didn’t know the story of the Buddha. He would have, however, known the story of Job. Some traditions even credit him as the author of The Book of Job, the events of which took place around the 6th Century BCE – the same time as Prince Siddhartha’s evolution into the Buddha. The Book of Job is the story of a man who endured great suffering. From Job’s perspective, there was a point when it could even be considered pointless suffering. But only to a point, because eventually Job’s suffering was alleviated and the way in which he endured the suffering is rewarded.
Job clung to his faith and believed that G-d was always with him. Moses, as I mentioned in a previous post, was told by the burning bush that G-d will always be with him and with the Jewish people. So the lesson is, “[we] are not alone in this. / As brothers [and sisters] we will stand and we’ll hold your hand.”
Sometimes, when I sing-along to the Mumford and Sons’ “Timshel” (even when I embellish the lyrics, see above) I don’t point out that the title of the song does not translate to “you are not alone in this.” There is a reference in John Steinbeck’s East of Eden that refers back to Beresh’t / Genesis 4:7 and the story of Cain and Abel. Steinbeck translated G-d’s words to Cain as “thou mayest.” In reality, if you’re going to use Steinbeck’s reference, it’s “thou mayest rule;” but it is sometimes translated as “you can rule/master” or “you will rule /master” and the object of this command or explanation is “sin.” As in: You can (or will, or mayest) rule (or overcome, or master) Sin.
I’m not going to get into the various understandings and meanings of sin. Suffice to say, anything one would categorize as a sin can also categorized as an affliction and therefore something which causes suffering. The key part here is that many translations of “timshel” reinforce the concept of free will. We choose how we deal with suffering. Even when we don’t realize we are choosing, our choice can alleviate or increase our suffering.
The Buddha’s parables about the second arrow and the poisoned arrow brilliantly illustrate how this choice works. So too, do the stories of Cain and Able, Job, and Moses and the Jewish people during Exodus. (Remember, not everyone celebrated that first Passover and not everyone left Egypt when they had the chance.) Even the story of the Passion of the Christ – the story of Jesus and his last week of life – includes a correlation between free will and suffering, a connection between our actions and the end of our suffering.
“This year however, we are experiencing, more than ever, the great silence of Holy Saturday. We can imagine ourselves in the position of the women on that day. They, like us, had before their eyes the drama of suffering, of an unexpected tragedy that happened all too suddenly. They had seen death and it weighed on their hearts. Pain was mixed with fear: would they suffer the same fate as the Master? Then too there was fear about the future and all that would need to be rebuilt. A painful memory, a hope cut short. For them, as for us, it was the darkest hour.
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Yet in this situation the women did not allow themselves to be paralyzed. They did not give in to the gloom of sorrow and regret, they did not morosely close in on themselves, or flee from reality. They were doing something simple yet extraordinary: preparing at home the spices to anoint the body of Jesus. They did not stop loving; in the darkness of their hearts, they lit a flame of mercy. Our Lady spent that Saturday, the day that would be dedicated to her, in prayer and hope. She responded to sorrow with trust in the Lord. Unbeknownst to these women, they were making preparations, in the darkness of that Sabbath, for “the dawn of the first day of the week”, the day that would change history. Jesus, like a seed buried in the ground, was about to make new life blossom in the world; and these women, by prayer and love, were helping to make that hope flower. How many people, in these sad days, have done and are still doing what those women did, sowing seeds of hope! With small gestures of care, affection and prayer.”
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– Homily of His Holiness Pope Francis, Easter Vigil, Holy Saturday, 11 April 2020
NOTE: Portions of the following were originally posted in 2021.
WARNING: This post specifically references a horrific and tragic event from 1999. You can skip most of these references by jumping from the first highlighted quote to the second highlighted quote.
“Compassion is the greatest form of love that humans have to offer. According to Webster’s Dictionary, compassion means a feeling of sympathy for another person’s misfortune. My definition is forgiving, loving, helping, leading, and showing mercy for others. I have this theory that if one person can go out of their way to show compassion, then it will start a chain reaction of the same. People will never know how far a little kindness can go.”
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– quoted from the essay “My Ethics, My Codes of Life” by Rachel Joy Scott (written in period 5)
Back in 2018, as one of my Kiss My Asana yogathon offerings, I referenced a lot – well, some – of the people who tragically lost their lives throughout history on April 19th and 20th. One of the people I mentioned was Rachel Joy Scott – the first person shot at Columbine High School on April 20, 1999. In some ways, it is hard to believe that 22 23 years have passed since that mass shooting. Remember mass shooting that some people thought would change everything? It’s equally hard to believe that there are adults – people who can serve in the armed forces, legally vote, and in some cases legally drink alcohol in the United States – who were not even born when 2 high school seniors killed 12 people and injured 24 others before taking their own lives. It’s mind-boggling to me that (based on recent events in early 2021 and data compiled by The New Yorker and Trace in 2019) there have had been over 200 mass shootings in the United States since April 20, 1999. (As of April 2022, there have been over 300 mass shootings in schools since this week in 1999.) Those shootings have affected thousands upon thousands of lives. Furthermore, it is astounding that what was (at the time) the fifth deadliest shooting in the United States (after World War II) “is now not even in the top ten.”
I’m not going to spend my time here (or in class) talking about my opinion about gun control and/or the 2nd Amendment. Nor am I going to spend a lot of time stating the obvious fact that, as the statistics and the lives lost clearly attest, we have a problem – because, let’s be honest, we have a lot of problems right now. What I am going to focus on today is Rachel’s Challenge. Not the program (although I will mention that) so much as the idea(l).
“I am sure that my codes of life may be very different from yours, but how do you know that trust, compassion, and beauty will not make this world a better place to be in and this life a better one to live? My codes may seem like a fantasy that can never be reached, but test them for yourself, and see the kind of effect they have in the lives of people around you. You just may start a chain reaction.”
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– quoted from the essay “My Ethics, My Codes of Life” by Rachel Joy Scott (written in period 5)
Somewhere on her person, perhaps in her backpack, 17-year old Rachel Joy Scott had a notebook. It was one of several notebooks that turned up after Rachel’s death. Some of the notebooks were full of thoughts, poetry, and art she was just sharing with herself. Some of the notebooks, however, were a form of communication between her and her “big brother” Mark Pettit. They would each write in the notebooks and then swap them during small groups at church.
The notebooks became a way for Rachel’s family to tell her story and also a way to spread her message about the importance of compassion. They, along with the stories that other people shared about their encounters with Rachel, led her family to start Rachel’s Challenge, a non-profit that creates “programs that promote a positive climate in K-12 schools.” They also have comprehensive programs for colleges and businesses.
On the foundation’s website, the Rachel’s Challenge mission is stated as “Making schools safer, more connected places where bullying and violence are replaced with kindness and respect; and where learning and teaching are awakened to their fullest.” They also indicate that when the program is fully implemented, “partner schools achieve statistically significant gains in community engagement, faculty/student relationships, leadership potential, and school climate; along with reductions in bullying, alcohol, tobacco and other drug use.”
“ANTROBUS: …. Oh, I’ve never forgotten for long at a time that living is struggle. I know that every good and excellent thing in the world stands moment by moment on the razor-edge of danger and must be fought for — whether it’s a field, or a home, or a country. All I ask is the chance to build new worlds and God has always given us that second chance, and has given us [opening the book] voices to guide us; and the memory of our mistakes to warn us. Maggie, you and I must remember in peace time all those resolves that were clear to us in the days of war. Maggie, we’ve come a long ways. We’ve learned. We’re learning. And the steps of our journey are marked for us here.”
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– quoted from The Skin of Our Teeth by Thornton Wilder
I did not know Rachel Joy Scott or Cassie Bernall (17), Steven Curnow (14), Corey DePooter (17), Kelly Fleming (16), Matthew Kechter (16), Daniel Mauser (15), Daniel Rohrbough (15), Isaiah Shoels (18), John Tomlin (16), Lauren Townsend (18), Kyle Velasquez (16), William “Dave” Sanders (47), nor (to my knowledge) do I know anyone else that was at Littleton, Colorado, today in 1999. I did not know the two seniors that wrecked so much havoc (and whose names I am choosing not to post, even though their families also suffered greatly.) I am not affiliated with the foundation Rachel’s family started and neither have I gone through their program. However, I believe in the message and I believe in the idea(l).
I have seen the chain reaction that starts with compassion and kindness – just as I have seen the chain reaction that begins with a lack of empathy and a lack of equanimity. In that essay she wrote in period 5, Rachel talked about first, second, and third impressions and how they don’t always give you a full picture of someone. She wrote, “Did you ever ask them what their goal in life is, what kind of past they came from, did they experience love, did they experience hurt, did you look into their soul and not just at their appearance?” We are, right here and right now, experiencing the chain reactions that occur when we don’t really see each other and when we don’t recognize the fact that we are all connected. We are – right here and right now – about to set off a new chain reaction.
Quick, ask yourself: What is motivating you and what do you expect to come out of your actions?
“One of the big things we’re focused on is how you see yourself. Each and every one of us in this room has a great capacity to do great things.”
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– Craig Scott speaking to a small group of students during a Rachel’s Challenge event
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“I challenge students to choose positive influences. Rachel wanted to make a positive difference. So, she surrounded herself with the right influences that helped her be a powerful, positive person.”
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– Craig Scott speaking in a 2018 TODAY feature story
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“‘Consider purification, tapas, which literally means “to melt,” as in refining ore. The purpose of purification is not pain and penance, but to deliberately refine one’s life, to melt it down and recast it into a higher order of purity and spirituality. The goal is very important; it is not self-punishment but refinement – to shift from human existence into Divinity!
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There are three main methods of purification: the refinement of one’s thoughts, words, and deeds – also called the purification, respectively, of one’s instruments of mind, speech, and body. When you modify these three you automatically change for the better.’”
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– Krishna speaking to Arjuna (17.14) in The Bhagavad Gita: A Walkthrough for Westerners by Jack Hawley
In the past, when I’ve talked about Rachel’s Challenge, I’ve used a fairly non-religious playlist. This year, however, the overlapping holidays inspired me to remix the playlist for these holy times. I wanted music that would reflect the different traditions and the different stories, while also reflecting Rachel Joy Scott’s ethics and codes of life. I also wanted something that was inspiring and hopeful, like the young woman herself.
As I was remixing, I came across “Godbone” by (one of my favorite composers) Bear McCreary. In the the television series See and in games like “King of Dragon Pass,” “godbone” is a term used for metal and/or concrete. I’m not 100% positive about the etymology of the term, but it reminded me of the Lunar New Year story about the Kitchen God and how the fireplace poker came into existence. It also made me think about Krishna’s explanation of tapas – which can be defined as heat, discipline and austerity, as well as the practices that cultivate heat, discipline, and austerity.
Whenever I reference tapas, which is one of the niyamas (“internal observations” in the Yoga Philosophy), I mention that it can be applied physically, mentally, emotionally, energetically, and spiritually. It can also be applied religiously. In fact, fasting during the holy month of Ramadān, giving something up for Lent, and giving up leavened bread during Passover are some of the examples I use throughout the year. Those same traditions also incorporate the the final two internal observations – svādhyāya (“self-study”) and Īśvarapraṇidhāna (“surrendering to [a higher power]”) – which combine with tapas to form kriya yoga (“yoga in action,” or an ongoing process moving towards union with Divine). (YS 2.1) These sacred rituals are all about refining the (c)ore of who we are.
“And he shall sit refining and purifying silver, and he shall purify the children of Levi. And he shall purge them as gold and as silver, and they shall be offering up an offering to the Lord with righteousness.”
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– quoted from Malachi (3.3)
Back in 2010, Sara Yoheved Rigler wrote an article about bitter herbs, suffering (in Passover and in life), and a group of women who were inspired to go deeper into the Biblical idea that the Jewish people’s suffering in Egypt was “the ‘kur habarzel ― the iron crucible[.]’” She wrote about how these women went to see a silversmith at work and how, through their observations and questions, they gained a better understanding of the process of suffering and how to deal with suffering. Like Rachel’s challenge, Sara Rigler’s insight gives us a better understanding of how we can graceful engage our own suffering: Always look for the image of the Divine in ourselves and always look for that same reflection in others.
“As the silversmith held a piece of silver over the fire, he explained that he needed to hold the silver where the flame was hottest in order to burn away all the impurities. The woman, remembering the Biblical verse, asked if he had to sit there the whole time the silver was being refined. The silversmith responded that not only did he have to sit and hold the silver the entire time, but he had to keep a careful eye on it, because if the silver was left in the flame a moment too long, it would be destroyed.
‘How do you know when the silver is fully refined?’ the woman asked.
‘That’s easy,’ he replied. ‘When I see my image in it.'”
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– quoted from the aish.com article “Why Celebrate with Bitter Herbs? – Yes, God took us out of Egypt, but He put us there in the first place!” by Sara Yoheved Rigler
Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “04202022 Rachel’s Challenge, Holy Remix”]
“She was a real girl, who had real struggles, and – just was in the pursuit to, you know, pretty much just show compassion and love to anybody who needed it. You know: Whatever religion, whatever race, whatever class – any of that stuff. I mean, it did not matter to Rachel…. She saw my heart.”
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– Mark Pettit, talking about the movie I’m Not Ashamed, a 2016 film based on their journals
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).
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If you are interested in combining a physical practice (yoga or weightlifting) with the Counting of the Omer, you can purchase a copy of Marcus J. Freed’s The Kabbalh Sutras: 49 Steps to Enlightenment.