FTWMI: The McGuffin’s MacGuffin, redux & reprised August 13, 2025
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Abhyasa, Art, Books, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Faith, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Mantra, Meditation, Movies, Music, One Hoop, Pain, Peace, Philosophy, Science, Suffering, Tragedy, Vairagya, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: 988, abhiniveśaḥ, Ahimsa, Alfred Hitchcock, Angus MacPhail, antiracism, Ashtavakra Gita, Berlin Wall, Bhagavad Gita, Charles Gounod, Charlotte Chandler, Eleanor Roosevelt, Epictetus, fear, fearless, fearless play, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, hinduism, Ibram X. Kendi, Jack Hawley, James Allardic, Jeff Alexander, klishtaklishta, klişţāklişţāh, Krishna, Leland Poague, MacGuffin, nervous system, Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, Paul Tillich, Potsdam Conference, Richard Freeman, Seneca, Shantipat, spirituality, Stanley Wilson, Swami J, Swami Jnaneshvara Bharati, Thich Nhat Hanh, Thomas Leitch, Todd McGowan, trauma, Upanishads, Wookiefoot, yama, Yoga Sutra 2.3, Yoga Sutra 2.9
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Many blessings to everyone, everywhere, and especially to anyone observing the Dormition Fast and/or cultivating friendship, peace, freedom, and wisdom — especially when it gets hot (inside and outside).
Stay hydrated & be kind, y’all!
For Those Who Missed It: The following was originally posted in 2024. Class details and links have been added.
“Upanishad is the subtler, mystical or yogic teachings of the philosophy and practices leading to the direct experience of the center of consciousness, the absolute reality. ‘Upa’ means ‘near;’ ‘ni’ means ‘down;’ ‘shad’ means ‘to sit.’ Thus, Upanishad is to sit down near the teacher to discuss, learn, practice and experience the means and goals of Yoga sadhana or practices. The Upanishads are also known as Vedanta, which means the end or culmination of the Vedas.”
— quoted from the “Upanishad” page by Swami Jnaneshvara Bharati (“Swami J”)
Often translated as “sitting near devotedly,” “Upanishad” is the Sanskrit word assigned to a collection of sacred texts, the earliest of which were compiled (starting) in the last centuries of the 1st millennium BCE. The stories within the Upanishads were originally part of an oral tradition and they explain and explore the Vedas (which are more sacred texts). Scholars believe there were originally over 200 Upanishads, with some overlapping material; however, some have been lost. Of the 108 studied and practiced today, ten to twelve (depending on the tradition) are consider “major” and complete. Each one begins and ends with an invocation known as a Shantipat: a path of peace.
We start each practice with the “Teaching Shantipat” and I often bring awareness to the end: “Shanti Shanti Shanthi Om” / “Peace [within us], Peace [all around us], Peace [to and from everything and every one we encounter] With our conscious, subconscious, and unconscious mind and on every plane of existence.” The last “Shanthi” is emphatic, drawn out, and sometimes explained as “Peace [because I said so]” or “Peace [because I demand it].”
While the endings are the same, the beginnings of each of the shantipats are different. They are situational. So, today, I bring your awareness to the beginning of the “Teaching Shantipat.”
“May all of us together be protected….”
— quoted from the beginning of the “Teaching Shantipat,” chanted in Sanskrit by Richard Freeman (when we are in the studio)
The beginning of the “Teaching Shantipat.” is interesting (to me), because it is very similar to the beginning of the metta meditation: “May I be safe and protected.”
I find it very interesting that this invocation begins with a desire, a wish, a prayer for safety and protection. You could even think of it as a commitment — similar to ahiṃsā (“non-harming” or “non-violence”), which is the very first yama (external “restraint” or universal commandment) at the beginning of the Yoga Philosophy. The underlying implication to all of this is that there is something — or someone — from which we need to be protected; that there is some danger of which we must be mindful. In other words, it is almost a warning that there is something to fear.
Fear is an emotional response to a perceived threat. It doesn’t matter if what we perceive turns out not to be a threat; because, the emotion is real. The emotional reaction causes a physiological response: it activates the sympathetic nervous system, which causes a chemical change in the brain and a change in organ function. These changes are designed to protect and ensure survival, causing us to fight or flee or freeze (which is a form of collapse). This can all take place in a blink of an eye and in a heartbeat — even, again, when the perceived threat turns out to not be a threat and/or not a threat to survival. Although the initial reaction can occur in an instant, it takes a while to come down off of the adrenaline high and, depending on the reality and nature of the threat, the effects of the trauma can be life-long.
“It is not that you must be free from fear. The moment you try to free yourself from fear, you create resistance against fear. Resistance in any form does not end fear. What is needed, rather than running away or controlling or suppressing, is understanding fear; that means, watch it, learn about it, come directly into contact with it, not how to escape from it, not how to resist it.”
— Jiddu Krishnamurti
Yoga Sūtras 2.3 and 2.9 describe ābhiniveśāḥ (“resistance to loss, fear of death of identity, desire for continuity, clinging to the life of”) as the fifth and final afflicted/dysfunctional thought pattern that leads to suffering. This is consistent with the Ashtavakra Gita, which states “All sorrow comes from fear. / From nothing else. // When you know this, / You become free of it, / And desire melts away.” (AG 11.5) According to the Eastern philosophies, like Yoga and Buddhism, the remedy to fear is wisdom, which is considered to be the opposite of fear.
Wisdom is the ability, knowledge, and skill to respond to a given situation with awareness. Without wisdom, we react as if everything and everyone is a threat to our life, our livelihood, and those we love. We become like a “timid man” who flees because he perceives everything picked up by our senses as a tiger. (AG 18.45) We see this fear-based behavior each and every day, even when we don’t recognize that that is what we are seeing/experiencing. Wisdom, in this case, can also be defined as vidyā (“correct knowledge”) about ourselves and the nature of everything. It gives us the ability to pause, take a breath, and possibly discover that “Just as a coil of rope / Is mistaken for a snake, / So you are mistaken for the world” (AG 1.10) and that “a man without desires is a lion.” (AG 18.46)
“‘Work hard in the world, Arjuna, but for work‘s sake only. You have every right to work but you should not crave the fruits of it. Although no one may deny you the outcomes of your efforts, you can, through determination, refuse to be attached to or affected by the results, whether favorable or unfavorable.
“‘The central points of issue, Arjuna, are desire and lack of inner peace. Desire for the fruits of one‘s actions brings worry about possible failure — the quivering mind I mentioned. When you are preoccupied with end results you pull yourself from the present into an imagined, usually fearful future. Then your anxiety robs your energy and, making matters worse, you lapse into inaction and laziness.’”
— Krishna speaking to Arjuna (2.47) in The Bhagavad Gita: A Walkthrough for Westerners by Jack Hawley
“You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face…. You must do what you think you cannot do.”
— quoted from You Learn by Living: Eleven Keys for a More Fulfilling Life by Eleanor Roosevelt
This tricky thing about fear is that the mind-intellect can perceive and process things in the past, present, and/or future; which means we may find ourselves having a fear-based reaction to something in the past or something that has not (and may never) happen. This is why fear can prevent us from achieving our goals and desires. It can also cause us to build walls — emotionally, energetically, symbolically, and physically. In fact, construction of the Berlin Wall, which began today on Sunday, August 13, 1961, was at the intersection of a lot of fear.
Remember, during the Potsdam Conference at the end of World War II, the Allies decided to split Berlin and the rest of Germany into four different regions controlled by four different nations. The Soviet-controlled areas became the German Democratic Republic (GDR or DDR; German: Deutsche Demokratische Republik), also known as East Germany. The areas controlled by United States, the United Kingdom, and France became the Federal Republic of Germany (German: Bundesrepublik Deutschland), sometimes called Bonn Republic (German: Bonner Republik), and known as West Germany. East and West Berlin, as well as East and West Germany, ended up with vastly different socioeconomic and political cultures. Right off the bat, people on the East side would travel to East Berlin in order to crossover to West Berlin and then, from there, gained access to the rest of the “Free World.” In fact, prior to the wall being constructed approximately 3.5 million people defected from East Berlin — at a rate of about one thousand a day.
The wall did not go up all at once. It started off as a little over 100 miles of barbed wire and fencing put up in the wee hours of that Sunday morning in 1961: 156 km (97 mi) between the western regions and the eastern regions and another 43 km (27 mi) of wire dividing the cities of Berlin. Then a 6-foot tall wall of blocks was constructed, with bunkers. Within nine years, that 6-foot wall of blocks had become a 3.6-meter (11.8-foot) tall wall, with the barbed wire (and guards in the towers). The final wall included 155 km (96 miles) of wall around West Berlin and another 111.9 km (69.5 miles) of barrier between West Berlin and East Germany.
The wall decreased the number of defections; however, it did not completely prevent them. Between 1961 and 1989, when the Berlin Wall “fell,” about 100,000 people attempted to defect and approximately five thousand succeeded. An estimated 136 — 200 people died attempting to escape. Many of the deaths were in and around a gap created between two concrete walls which formed the 27 miles of barrier dividing Berlin. Known as the “death strip,” the gap was full of anti-vehicle trenches, guard dog runs, floodlights, and trip-wire machine guns. It was also overseen by guards in watchtowers who were ordered to shoot on sight.
Remember, although decades had passed, the construction of the Berlin Wall happened in the wake of World War II. People were still processing the trauma caused by the violence of the war and of the Holocaust, which were themselves the source and result of fear.
“However, if the process of non-violence is to be effective in counteracting violence, we must first describe and outline it clearly and methodically. Because violent thoughts always precede a violent act, an act of non-violence will be effective only if it is preceded by non-violent thoughts. Violence is an active phenomenon, whereas non-violence is mistakenly thought to be passive – simply the absence of violence. But passive non-violence has no power to extinguish the fire if violence. Non-violence must be as active as violence itself.”
— commentary on Yoga Sūtra 2.33 from The Practice of the Yoga Sutra: Sadhana Pada by Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, PhD
“The opposite of racist isn’t ‘not racist.’ It is ‘anti-racist.’ What’s the difference? One endorses either the idea of a racial hierarchy as a racist, or racial equality as an anti-racist. One either believes problems are rooted in groups of people, as a racist, or locates the roots of problems in power and policies, as an anti-racist. One either allows racial inequities to persevere, as a racist, or confronts racial inequities, as an anti-racist. There is no in-between safe space of ‘not racist.’”
— quoted from How to Be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi, PhD
When I first heard about Dr. Ibram X. Kendi, who was born in Jamaica, New York City on August 13, 1982, I thought the term “antiracist” was something new. In reality, however, Dr. Kendi recommends and teaches an idea that goes back to the beginning of the yoga philosophy. (NOTE: I’m not saying he’s teaching “yoga,” even though he is working to bring people together. I’m saying that he is teaching ancient wisdom.)
This wisdom is not simply bringing awareness to a situation and neither is it not doing something overtly harmful. It is bringing awareness to what is happening beneath the surface and actively, skillfully, moving in the opposite direction. Again, the premise behind “cultivating the opposites” is that, over time, we neutralize the force of past actions and, as a result, our habits and thoughts change. When our habits and thoughts change, the world changes. Doing this work can be scary — in fact, you may already feel yourself tightening up just at the thought. But, we must remember that being fearless is not the absence of fear, it is how we show up when we experience fear.
“Courage is the strength to do what is right in the face of fear, as the anonymous philosopher tells us. I gain insight into what’s right from antiracist ideas. I gain strength from fear. While many people are fearful of what could happen if they resist, I am fearful of what could happen if I don’t resist, I am fearful of cowardice. Cowardice is the inability to amass the strength to do what is right in the face of fear. And racist power has been terrorizing cowardice into us for generations.”
— quoted from How to Be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi, PhD
None of this is about being reckless and putting ourselves (or others) in danger. Neither is it about ignoring reality. Instead, the philosophers and leaders quoted throughout this post encourage us to face our fears. Again, this is not new advice. As noted above, it is the same advice found in ancient texts from India and (as noted below) it is the same advice found in the teachings of the Stoics. In fact, I imagine that if you research all the indigenous and modern cultures in the world, you will find lessons on fear and advice on cultivating fearlessness that is very, very similar.
Furthermore, we have plenty of opportunities to practice studying, observing, learning about, and understanding our fears. We can do it on the mat or the cushion; we can do it as we move through our days; and we can do it when some form of entertainment push our buttons.
“[Spoken: Alfred Hitchcock]
Thus far, this album has provided musical accompaniment to make your passing pleasant
Our next number is designed to drown out the sound of shovels
Music to be buried by
[Music begins]
Of course, your assassin may have made burial unnecessary
So, if you are completely encased in cement
And are teetering on the edge of a pier
Please try not to pay attention to this next number
It is not meant for you
As for the others, if you spend your evenings watching murder instead of doing it yourself
You may recognize this”
— quoted from Track 5, “Alfred Hitchcock Television Theme” on the album Alfred Hitchcock Presents Music to Be Murdered By by Alfred Hitchcock and Jeff Alexander (narration written by James Allardice; “Funeral March Of A Marionette” by Charles Gounod adapted by Jeff Alexander and Stanley Wilson)
Born today in London, today in 1899, Sir Alfred Hitchcock KBE liked to play with fear(s) and push people’s fear buttons. He directed and produced movies like The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog (1927); Blackmail (1929), was the first British “talkie;” The 39 Steps (1935); The Lady Vanishes (1938); Rebecca (1940); Shadow of a Doubt (1943); Strangers on a Train (1951), Dial M for Murder and Rear Window (both released in 1954); Psycho (1960); To Catch a Thief and The Trouble with Harry (both released in 1955); Vertigo (1958); North by Northwest (1959), and The Birds (1963). He was also the producer and host of the television anthology Alfred Hitchcock Presents (1955–65) and often made cameo appearances in his own movies. Like so many directors and producers, he liked to work with certain people, including Cary Grant and James Stewart (who were each in four movies) and Ingrid Bergman and Grace Kelly (who were each in three movies).
In addition to having nine of his films selected for preservation in the United States National Film Registry (as of 2021), Alfred Hitchcock received the British Academy of Film and Television Arts (BAFTA) Fellowship in 1971, the American Film Institute (AFI) Life Achievement Award in 1979, and was knighted in December of that 1979, just a few months before he died on April 29, 1980. His work also earned him six Academy Awards and an additional 40 Academy Award nominations — including five in the Best Director category.
Despite never winning the Academy Award for Best Director, the “Master of Suspense” did such a good job at manipulating emotional responses that even hearing the music (often composed by Bernard Herrmann), seeing a murder of crows or a rear window, and/or being in the shower can start tightening up the body. His name, voice, and infamous silhouette became so synonymous with his work that they can also activate the fear response. Another common Hitchcockian element was a simple plot device that existed long before he was born. It became more popular and more well-known by a name coined by the screenwriter Angus MacPhail1: MacGuffin (or McGuffin).
“Hitchcock explained how the MacGuffin got its name:
‘Two men are traveling on a train to Scotland. One of them is carrying an odd parcel. The other man says, “What have you there?” and the other answers, “A MacGuffin.”
‘“What’s a MacGuffin?”
‘“It’s a special device designed to trap wild lions in the Scottish Highlands.”
‘“But there aren’t any lions in the Scottish Highlands.”
‘“Then, there is no MacGuffin.”
‘The MacGuffin, you see, is only important if you think it’s important, and that’s my job as a director, to make you think it’s important.’”
— quoted from “II. British Films: Cub Director” in It’s Only a Movie: Alfred Hitchcock: A Personal Biography by Charlotte Chandler2
A McGuffin (or MacGuffin) can be anything — or anyone — that people in the movie are seeking. It could be a briefcase (or something inside a suitcase). It could be a jewel-encrusted statuette. It could be $40,000 or, as some people see it, a place in the snow where $920,000 was buried. It could be state secrets. It could be A Girl. While the MacGuffin (or McGuffin) motivates the characters and keeps the plot moving, it is the exact opposite of Checkov’s gun because it is ultimately inconsequential. The characters seem to forget about it or just put it aside. In fact, sometimes it is as if it was never in the story. Other times it is just never revealed to the audience.
A McGuffin (or MacGuffin) should not be confused with a “red herring,” because it is not intended to confuse or misdirect the audience. However, to be clear, Sir Alfred’s movies also include red herrings — sometimes in the form of suspenseful music or shadows that keep the audience primed for something to happen. In other words, the MacGuffin (or McGuffin) motivates the characters and puts them in their situations, while the red herring conditions the audience to fear on command.
“Hitchcock’s example of the MacGuffin emphasizes its impossible status: not only is the object that one [never has], but one cannot even isolate it as an idea. It remains necessarily empty, and yet functions as an engine for the Hitchcockian narrative. The emptiness of the MacGuffin as an object permits spectators to locate their satisfaction in the striving that it unleashes rather than identifying satisfaction with the discovery of its secret.”
— quoted from “The Empty Object” in “27. Hitchcock’s Ethics of Suspense: Psychoanalysis and the Devaluation of the Object” by Todd McGowan (as published in A Companion to Alfred Hitchcock, edited by Thomas Leitch and Leland Poague)
Take a moment to bring your awareness to what happens when you experience fear.
Are you someone who runs away from it… or towards it? Are you someone who likes to be fearless and play? Are you someone who tears down walls and barriers? Or, are you someone who builds walls?
“This great Nation will endure as it has endured, will revive and will prosper. So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself – nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.”
“Only a foolish optimist can deny the dark realities of the moment.”
— quoted from the March 4, 1933, Inaugural Speech by President Franklin Delano Roosevelt
“What conflicts with the courage of wisdom is desires and fears. The Stoics developed a profound doctrine of anxiety which also reminds us of recent analyses. They discovered that the object of fear is fear itself. ‘Nothing,’ says Seneca, ‘is terrible in things except fear itself.’ And Epictetus says, ‘For it is not death or hardship that is a fearful thing, but the fear of death and hardship.’ Our anxiety puts frightening masks over all men and things. If we strip them of these masks their own countenance appears and the fear they produce disappears. This is true even of death. Since every day a little of our life is taken from us–since we are dying every day–the final hour when we cease to exist does not itself bring death; merely completes the death process. The horrors connected with it are a matter of imagination. They vanish when the mask is taken from the image of death.”
— quoted from “Chapter 1. Being and Courage – Courage and Wisdom: The Stoics” in The Courage To Be (pub. 1952) by Paul Tillich
Please join me today (Wednesday, August 13th) at 4:30 PM or 7:15 PM for a yoga practice on Zoom. You can use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or (for a slightly faster reply) you can email myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “08132022 The McGuffin’s MacGuffin”]
NOTES:
1 Angus MacPhail worked with Sir Alfred Hitchcock on Aventure Malgache (1944, uncredited writer); Bon Voyage (1944, writer); Spellbound (1945, writer for adaptation); The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956, uncredited contributing writer); and The Wrong Man (1956, screenwriter). He very briefly worked on the script development for Vertigo, which may be why the movie opens with San Francisco detective John “Scottie” Ferguson (as played by James Stewart) involved in a rooftop chase.2 Alfred Hitchcock used variations of this MacGuffin story on more than one occasion, including during a lecture at Columbia University in New York City (in 1939) and in a series of interviews. In some versions the conclusion was that there were no lions in the Scottish Highlands because the device in the parcel worked.
“We are very afraid of being powerless. But we have the power to look deeply at our fears, and then fear cannot control us. We can transform our fear. Fear keeps us focused on the past or worried about the future. If we can acknowledge our fear, we can realize that right now we are okay. Right now, today, we are still alive, and our bodies are working marvelously. Our eyes can still see the beautiful sky. Our ears can still hear the voices of our loved ones.”
— quoted from Fear: Essential Wisdom for Getting Through the Storm by Thich Nhat Hanh
Extreme heat (and traumatic events) can not only make people lethargic and unmotivated, they can also lead to extreme agitation and anxiety-based fear. We may find it hard to think, hard to feel (or process our feelings), and/or hard to control our impulses. If you are struggling in the US, help is available just by dialing 988.
If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can dial 988 (in the US) or call 1-800-273-TALK (8255) for the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. You can also call this TALK line if you are struggling with addiction or involved in an abusive relationship. The Lifeline network is free, confidential, and available to all 24/7. YOU CAN TALK ABOUT ANYTHING.
White Flag is an app, which I have not yet researched, but which may be helpful if you need peer-to-peer (non-professional) support.
If you are a young person in crisis, feeling suicidal, or in need of a safe and judgement-free place to talk, you can also click here to contact the TrevorLifeline (which is staffed 24/7 with trained counselors).
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.
### BE Fearless & PLAY. BE WISE.###
FTWMI: A Note & EXCERPT: “Not So De-Lovely Circumstance(s)?” (a post-practice Monday post) June 9, 2025
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in "Impossible" People, Basketball, Changing Perspectives, Depression, Healing Stories, Health, Hope, Life, Loss, Men, Music, One Hoop, Pain, Philosophy, Religion, Suffering, Tragedy, Wisdom, Yoga.Tags: 988, accident, amputation, cancer, Changing Perspectives, Cole Porter, Day Of the Holy Spirit, disability, jazz, Loss, Matthew Sanford, mental health, Mind Body Solutions, music, trauma, Wayman Tisdale, yoga philosophy, yoga practice
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Happy Pride!
Many blessings to everyone and especially to anyone celebrating Pride and/or the Day of the Holy Spirit.
For Those Who Missed It: This post-practice post and excerpt for Monday, June 10th, was originally posted in 2024. The 2025 prompt question was, “How would you describe your attitude today?”
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.
“‘You can never give up because quitting is not an option,’ [Wayman] Tisdale says. ‘No matter how dark it is or how weak you get, until you take that last breath, you must fight.’”
— quoted from the Dec. 3, 2008 ESPN article “Tisdale reaches for his biggest rebound” by Anna K. Clemmons
The first question I asked in a 2020 blog post (see below) was, “Have you ever experienced trauma, loss, and disability?”
During yesterday’s practice, I mentioned how the trajectory of Robert Schumann’s life and career changed when he lost sensation in his right pinky finger. Eventually, he loss the use and dexterity of his whole right hand. The physical trauma, loss, and disability took an emotional toll that eventually landed him in sanatorium. Coincidentally, today is the anniversary of the birth of Cole Porter (b. 1891) and Wayman Tisdale (b. 1964) — two people who shared a lot in common with Robert Schumann, including music, love, and trauma, loss, and disability… again on the right side. However, they dealt with their circumstances in very different ways.
Click on the title of the excerpt below for the entire 2020 post about Cole Porter and Wayman Tisdale.
“Sad times, may follow your tracks
Bad times, may bar you from Sak’s
At times, when Satan in slacks
Breaks down your self control
Maybe, as often it goes
Your Abe-y, may tire of his rose
So baby, this rule I propose
Always have an ace in the hole.”
— quoted from the song “Ace in the Hole” by Cole Porter
There is no playlist for the Common Ground Meditation Center practices.
NOTE: If you are interested in the music referenced in the excerpted post (and practice), a playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “06092020 Not So De-Lovely Circumstance(s)”]
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).
### NOTICE HOW YOU DEAL WITH CIRCUMSTANCES
(whether they be the de-lovely kind or not) ###
A Quick Note & EXCERPT: “When Awareness Expands” June 1, 2025
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Changing Perspectives, Faith, Healing Stories, Hope, Karma, Life, Meditation, One Hoop, Pain, Peace, Philosophy, Religion, Suffering, Tragedy, Wisdom, Yoga.Tags: 988, Black Wall Street, Cable News Network, CNN, Greenwood District, Indian Territory, Randy Hopkins, Swami Vivekananda, The CNN Effect, trauma, Tulsa, yoga sutra 3.5
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Many blessings to everyone and especially to anyone Counting the Omer, getting ready to celebrate Shavuot, and/or celebrating the Seventh Sunday of Pascha: The Fathers of the First Ecumenical Council.
Yoga Sutra 3.5: tád jayat prajñā lōkāh
— “Through the mastery of that [three-part process of samyama] comes the light of knowledge, transcendental insight, or higher consciousness.”
“When one has succeeded in making this Samyama, all powers come under his control. This is the great instrument of the Yogi. The objects of knowledge are infinite, and they are divided into the gross, grosser, grossest and the fine, finer, finest and so on. This Samyama should be first applied to gross things, and when you begin to get knowledge of this gross, slowly, by stages, it should be brought to finer things.”
— commentary on Yoga Sūtra 3.5 from Raja Yoga by Swami Vivekananda
Ted Turner’s CNN (Cable News Network) premiered Sunday, June 1, 1980, at 5 PM EST; making it the first 24-hour news channel and the first all-news television in the United States. While other news channels made fun of the new outlet, CNN stayed focused (with the slogan “Go live, stay with it, and make it important.”) and changed the way government made and addressed policy and also the way people interacted with each other and the news.
There was no such thing as CNN back in 1921, when the Greenwood District (in Indian Territory) — also known as “Black Wall Street” — was destroyed in Tulsa, Oklahoma.
CLICK ON THE EXCERPT TITLE BELOW FOR MORE.
NOTE: The post excerpted below does not reference the shooting which happened in Tulsa today in 2022.
“On Thursday morning, June 2, 1921, one of Tulsa’s many problems was that of optics. A large chunk of the city had been obliterated in a matter of hours and an embarrassingly large portion of the city’s population had a hand in the obliterating. How this was going to look to outsiders was far from an irrelevant concern for many Tulsans, especially the city’s elite for whom pride in the city’s accomplishments was keen…. Would businesses go elsewhere? Would other ‘better citizens’ from other places look down their noses?”
— quoted from The Center for Public Secrets Journal article entitled, “Mask of Atonement: The Plan to Rebuild the Homes of Greenwood” by Randy Hopkins
Please join me for a 65-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Sunday, June 1st) at 2:30 PM. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Sunday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “06012021 The Difference A Day Made”]
If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can dial 988 (in the US) or call 1-800-273-TALK (8255) for the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. You can also call this TALK line if you are struggling with addiction or involved in an abusive relationship. The Lifeline network is free, confidential, and available to all 24/7. YOU CAN TALK ABOUT ANYTHING.
White Flag is a new app, which I have not yet researched, but which may be helpful if you need peer-to-peer (non-professional) support.
If you are a young person in crisis, feeling suicidal, or in need of a safe and judgement-free place to talk, you can also click here to contact the TrevorLifeline (which is staffed 24/7 with trained counselors).
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es). Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.)
### PEACE IN, PEACE OUT ###
Who’s Afraid of Sitting, Breathing… in a Room? (the “missing” Saturday post w/an excerpt) January 25, 2025
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in "Impossible" People, Abhyasa, Art, Books, Changing Perspectives, Confessions, Depression, Healing Stories, Health, Hope, Life, Loss, Meditation, Movies, Music, One Hoop, Philosophy, Suffering, Tragedy, Vairagya, Vipassana, Wisdom, Women, Writing, Yoga.Tags: 988, asana, Dr. Toya Webb, hatha yoga, Hatha Yoga Pradipika, Haţha Yoga Pradipika, Metta, Michael Cunningham, Pancham Sinh, Patanjali, priviledge, siddhis, The Air I Breathe, trauma, Virginia Woolf, Yoga Sutra 1.33-1.40, Yoga Sutra 3.16, Yoga Sutras 2.51-2.52
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Many blessings to everyone, and especially those observing Maha Kumbh Mela.
May you be safe and protected / May you be peaceful and happy / May you be healthy and strong!
This is the “missing” post for Saturday, January 25th. It is a slightly revised (and remixed) version of previously posted content (with some new content mixed in). If you click on the link in the “CODA, redux” (or the excerpt below), please note that the beginning is similar (but the posts are different).
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.
“A writer is a person who sits at a desk and keeps his eye fixed, as intently as he can, upon a certain object—that figure of speech may help to keep us steady on our path if we look at it for a moment. He is an artist who sits with a sheet of paper in front of him trying to copy what he sees. What is his object—his model?”
— quoted from the essay “The Leaning Tower (A paper read to the Workers’ Educational Association, Brighton, May 1940.)” as it appears in The Moment and Other Essays by Virginia Woolf (b. 1882)
Yoga Sūtra 1.40: paramāṇuparamamahattvānto ‘sya vaśīkāraḥ
— “When, through such practices [focusing on a certain object, as previously described in YS 1.33 – 1.39), the mind develops the power of becoming stable on the smallest size object as well as on the largest, then the mind truly comes under control.”
CODA, redux
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, whenever I circle back to this practice and this theme, I found myself thinking about different similarities. In previous years, 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. This year (and in 2023), I found myself thinking more and more about what it takes to tell our stories and the vantage point(s) from which we tell our stories — especially the stories we tell about our defining moments.
“A writer has to keep his eye upon a model that moves, that changes, upon an object that is not one object but innumerable objects. Two words alone cover all that a writer looks at—they are, human life.”
— quoted from the essay “The Leaning Tower (A paper read to the Workers’ Educational Association, Brighton, May 1940.)” as it appears in The Moment and Other Essays by Virginia Woolf
Yoga Sūtra 3.16: pariṇāmatrayasaṃyamādatãtānāgatajñānam
— “By samyama [focus-concentration-meditation] on the three-fold changes in form, time, and characteristics, there comes knowledge of the past and future.”
We all have defining moments in our lives. These may be moments that we use to describe the trajectory of our lives or maybe moments that we use to describe ourselves. Either way, when a single moment plays a big part in who we are and what’s important to us, we sometimes forget that that single moment — as important as it may be — is part of a sequence of moments. It is the culmination of what’s happened before and the beginning of what happens next; it’s just a single part of our ever-changing story. Even when — or, especially when — that moment is the story, we have to be careful about how we frame it. It doesn’t matter if we are telling our story or someone else’s story; how we tell the story matters.
“But the leaning-tower writers wrote about themselves honestly, therefore creatively. They told the unpleasant truths, not only the flattering truths. That is why their autobiography is so much better than their fiction or their poetry. Consider how difficult it is to tell the truth about oneself—the unpleasant truth; to admit that one is petty, vain, mean, frustrated, tortured, unfaithful, and unsuccessful. The nineteenth-century writers never told that kind of truth, and that is why so much of the nineteenth-century writing is worthless; why, for all their genius, Dickens and Thackeray seem so often to write about dolls and puppets, not about full-grown men and women; why they are forced to evade the main themes and make do with diversions instead. If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people.”
— quoted from the essay “The Leaning Tower (A paper read to the Workers’ Educational Association, Brighton, May 1940.)” as it appears in The Moment and Other Essays by Virginia Woolf
Born Virginia Stephen in Kensington, England, on January 25, 1882, Virginia Woolf wrote 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. Some of her most famous essays and speeches addressed the labor of writing — telling stories — and why (in the Western canon) there were so few accomplished female writers. For instance, in October 1928, she 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.)
These speeches about women and fiction specifically detailed why there were so few women writers who had earned acclaim (and, to a certain degree, why those that did often did so anonymously or with “male” names). She highlighted the absurd trichotomy between the two wildly archetypical ways women are portrayed in literature and the reality of the very different types of women in the room, let alone in the world. She also 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.
In addition to talking about the social constraints that prevented a woman from devoting copious time to the practical application of her craft — writing, she also discussed 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. All this, she detailed, as she highlighted two (really three) of the things a woman would need to overcome the obstacles of society: (time), space, and money.
“… 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
“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)
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 15th 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 first struck me was how similar Virginia Woolf’s advice to women writers was to the early instructions about a practice that can be used to cultivate clarity and harness the power of the mind. Additionally, the practice requires — nay demands — that we sit and turn inward (in order to consider our perspectives and vantage points), just as Ms. Woolf’s essays highlighted the importance of noticing a writer’s seat.
“But before we go on with the story of what happened after 1914, let us look more closely for a moment, not at the writer himself; nor at his model; but at his chair. A chair is a very important part of a writer’s outfit. It is the chair that gives him his attitude towards his model; that decides what he sees of human life; that profoundly affects his power of telling us what he sees. By his chair we mean his upbringing, his education. It is a fact, not a theory, that all writers from Chaucer to the present day, with so few exceptions that one hand can count them, have sat upon the same kind of chair—a raised chair. They have all come from the middle class; they have had good, at least expensive, educations. They have all been raised above the mass of people upon a tower of stucco—that is their middle-class birth; and of gold—that is their expensive education…. Those are some of them; and all, with the exception of D. H. Lawrence, came of the middle class, and were educated at public schools and universities. There is another fact, equally indisputable: the books that they wrote were among the best books written between 1910 and 1925. Now let us ask, is there any connection between those facts? Is there a connection between the excellence of their work and the fact that they came of families rich enough to send them to public schools and universities?”
— quoted from the essay “The Leaning Tower (A paper read to the Workers’ Educational Association, Brighton, May 1940.)” as it appears in The Moment and Other Essays by Virginia Woolf
According to Virginia Woolf, there was an undeniable connection between wealth, the education that wealth provides, and the success of [male] English writers in the eighteenth, nineteenth, and early twentieth centuries. She saw that common thread of privilege as the very foundation of (and secret to) these writers’ success and described it as a tower, stating, “He sits upon a tower raised above the rest of us; a tower built first on his parents’ station, then on his parents’ gold. It is a tower of the utmost importance; it decides his angle of vision; it affects his power of communication.” She also saw it as a blind spot (for such writers and society) and noted that the tower stood strong well into the twentieth century. While the writers supported by this metaphorical tower sometimes had empathy for those less fortunate than them, she observed that they had no desire to dismantle the tower or descend from it’s heights. Furthermore, the tower (and lack of awareness about it) perpetuated misconceptions about women and about why there were not more women — nor more people from lower income brackets — in the ranks of acclaimed authors.
Here is where I see another similarity between yoga and Virginia Woolf’s work, because some people have misconceptions about what it means to practice yoga, what happens when you practice yoga, who practices yoga, and why people practice yoga. For instance, 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. More often than not, these types of misconceptions stem from a lack of knowledge about the history and practice of yoga. Unfortunately, that lack of knowledge often causes people to not practice and/or to judge people for practicing.
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 (theory), 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. To bring awareness to all of these things, we “sit and breathe” (even when we are moving).
“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)
Yoga Sūtra 2.51: bāhyābhyantaravişayākşepī caturthah
— “The fourth [prāņāyāma] goes beyond, or transcends, the internal and external objects.”
Yoga Sūtra 2.52: tatah kşīyate prakāśāvaraņam
— “Then the veil over the [Inner] Light deteriorates.”
“Unconsciousness, which means presumably that the under-mind, works at top speed while the upper-mind drowses, is a state we all know. We all have experience of the work done by unconsciousness in our own daily lives. You have had a crowded day, let us suppose, sightseeing in London. Could you say what you had seen and done when you came back? Was it not all a blur, a confusion? But after what seemed a rest, a chance to turn aside and look at something different, the sights and sounds and sayings that had been of most interest to you swam to the surface, apparently of their own accord; and remained in memory; what was unimportant sank into forgetfulness. So it is with the writer. After a hard day’s work, trudging round, seeing all he can, feeling all he can, taking in the book of his mind innumerable notes, the writer becomes—if he can—unconscious. In fact, his under-mind works at top speed while his upper-mind drowses. Then, after a pause the veil lifts; and there is the thing—the thing he wants to write about—simplified, composed. Do we strain Wordsworth’s famous saying about emotion recollected in [tranquility] when we infer that by [tranquility] he meant that the writer needs to become unconscious before he can create?”
— quoted from the essay “The Leaning Tower (A paper read to the Workers’ Educational Association, Brighton, May 1940.)” as it appears in The Moment and Other Essays by Virginia Woolf
When we “sit and breathe” a lot of things bubble up: thoughts, emotions, sensations, memories. Part of the practice is noticing what comes up and part of the practice is remaining the witness to what comes up (rather than engaging every little fluctuation of the mind). Contrary to some popular misconceptions, people who practice feel a lot — they’re just not always distracted by every thing they feel. Instead, they allow the different thoughts, emotions, sensations, and memories to pass back and forth between their conscious, subconscious, and unconscious mind until the busy brain rests. They are not constantly cataloging what is specific, what is unspecific, what is barely describable, and what is absolutely indescribable; however, they are aware of all of these categories as they experience them.
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. 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.
“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
Click on the excerpt title below for the 2022 post that details some of Virginia Woolf’s trauma and heartbreak. (Again, the introduction is similar, but some of the content is very different.)
Sitting, Breathing… in a Room [the “missing” Tuesday post]
“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
The Air I Breathe, one of my favorite movies, was released in the United States on January 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.
This time of year, the statements and the questions also remind us that change happens every time we inhale, every time we exhale — and we can make that change happen.
“‘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.”
Saturday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “01252022 Sitting, Breathing… in a Room”]
“You cannot find peace by avoiding life.”
— quoted from The Hours: a novel by Michael Cunningham
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).
“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
### BRING AWARENESS TO YOUR SEAT! ###
The McGuffin’s MacGuffin, redux & reprised (the “missing” Tuesday post) August 13, 2024
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Abhyasa, Art, Books, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Faith, Healing Stories, Hope, Life, Mantra, Meditation, Movies, Music, One Hoop, Pain, Peace, Philosophy, Science, Suffering, Tragedy, Vairagya, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: 988, Ahimsa, ahimsā, Alfred Hitchcock, Angus MacPhail, antiracism, Ashtavakra Gita, Berlin Wall, Bhagavad Gita, Charles Gounod, Charlotte Chandler, Eleanor Roosevelt, Epictetus, fear, fearless, fearless play, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Ibram X. Kendi, Jack Hawley, James Allardic, Jeff Alexander, klishtaklishta, klişţāklişţāh, Leland Poague, MacGuffin, nervous system, Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, Paul Tillich, Potsdam Conference, Richard Freeman, Seneca, Shantipat, Stanley Wilson, Swami J, Swami Jnaneshvara Bharati, Thích Nhất Hạnh, Thich Nhat Hanh, Thomas Leitch, Todd McGowan, trauma, Upanishads, Wookiefoot, yama, Yoga Sutra 2.3, Yoga Sutra 2.9, ābhiniveśāḥ
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Many blessings to anyone observing Tisha B’Av and to everyone cultivating friendship, peace, freedom, and wisdom — especially when it gets hot (inside and outside).
Stay hydrated & be kind, y’all!
This is the “missing” for Tuesday, August 13th. Technically, it is also the “long lost” post for 2023 and a portion of the 2022 practice. It includes some previously posted information. 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).
Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.
Check out the “Class Schedules” calendar for upcoming classes.
“Upanishad is the subtler, mystical or yogic teachings of the philosophy and practices leading to the direct experience of the center of consciousness, the absolute reality. ‘Upa’ means ‘near;’ ‘ni’ means ‘down;’ ‘shad’ means ‘to sit.’ Thus, Upanishad is to sit down near the teacher to discuss, learn, practice and experience the means and goals of Yoga sadhana or practices. The Upanishads are also known as Vedanta, which means the end or culmination of the Vedas.”
— quoted from the “Upanishad” page by Swami Jnaneshvara Bharati (“Swami J”)
Often translated as “sitting near devotedly,” “Upanishad” is the Sanskrit word assigned to a collection of sacred texts, the earliest of which were compiled (starting) in the last centuries of the 1st millennium BCE. The stories within the Upanishads were originally part of an oral tradition and they explain and explore the Vedas (which are more sacred texts). Scholars believe there were originally over 200 Upanishads, with some overlapping material; however, some have been lost. Of the 108 studied and practiced today, ten to twelve (depending on the tradition) are consider “major” and complete. Each one begins and ends with an invocation known as a Shantipat: a path of peace.
We start each practice with the “Teaching Shantipat” and I often bring awareness to the end: “Shanti Shanti Shanthi Om” / “Peace [within us], Peace [all around us], Peace [to and from everything and every one we encounter] With our conscious, subconscious, and unconscious mind and on every plane of existence.” The last “Shanthi” is emphatic, drawn out, and sometimes explained as “Peace [because I said so]” or “Peace [because I demand it].”
While the endings are the same, the beginnings of each of the shantipats are different. They are situational. So, today, I bring your awareness to the beginning of the “Teaching Shantipat.”
“May all of us together be protected….”
— quoted from the beginning of the “Teaching Shantipat,” chanted in Sanskrit by Richard Freeman (when we are in the studio)
The beginning of the “Teaching Shantipat.” is interesting (to me), because it is very similar to the beginning of the metta meditation: “May I be safe and protected.”
I find it very interesting that this invocation begins with a desire, a wish, a prayer for safety and protection. You could even think of it as a commitment — similar to ahiṃsā (“non-harming” or “non-violence”), which is the very first yama (external “restraint” or universal commandment) at the beginning of the Yoga Philosophy. The underlying implication to all of this is that there is something — or someone — from which we need to be protected; that there is some danger of which we must be mindful. In other words, it is almost a warning that there is something to fear.
Fear is an emotional response to a perceived threat. It doesn’t matter if what we perceive turns out not to be a threat; because, the emotion is real. The emotional reaction causes a physiological response: it activates the sympathetic nervous system, which causes a chemical change in the brain and a change in organ function. These changes are designed to protect and ensure survival, causing us to fight or flee or freeze (which is a form of collapse). This can all take place in a blink of an eye and in a heartbeat — even, again, when the perceived threat turns out to not be a threat and/or not a threat to survival. Although the initial reaction can occur in an instant, it takes a while to come down off of the adrenaline high and, depending on the reality and nature of the threat, the effects of the trauma can be life-long.
“It is not that you must be free from fear. The moment you try to free yourself from fear, you create resistance against fear. Resistance in any form does not end fear. What is needed, rather than running away or controlling or suppressing, is understanding fear; that means, watch it, learn about it, come directly into contact with it, not how to escape from it, not how to resist it.”
— Jiddu Krishnamurti
Yoga Sūtras 2.3 and 2.9 describe ābhiniveśāḥ (“resistance to loss, fear of death of identity, desire for continuity, clinging to the life of”) as the fifth and final afflicted/dysfunctional thought pattern that leads to suffering. This is consistent with the Ashtavakra Gita, which states “All sorrow comes from fear. / From nothing else. // When you know this, / You become free of it, / And desire melts away.” (AG 11.5) According to the Eastern philosophies, like Yoga and Buddhism, the remedy to fear is wisdom, which is considered to be the opposite of fear.
Wisdom is the ability, knowledge, and skill to respond to a given situation with awareness. Without wisdom, we react as if everything and everyone is a threat to our life, our livelihood, and those we love. We become like a “timid man” who flees because he perceives everything picked up by our senses as a tiger. (AG 18.45) We see this fear-based behavior each and every day, even when we don’t recognize that that is what we are seeing/experiencing. Wisdom, in this case, can also be defined as vidyā (“correct knowledge”) about ourselves and the nature of everything. It gives us the ability to pause, take a breath, and possibly discover that “Just as a coil of rope / Is mistaken for a snake, / So you are mistaken for the world” (AG 1.10) and that “a man without desires is a lion.” (AG 18.46)
“‘Work hard in the world, Arjuna, but for work‘s sake only. You have every right to work but you should not crave the fruits of it. Although no one may deny you the outcomes of your efforts, you can, through determination, refuse to be attached to or affected by the results, whether favorable or unfavorable.
“‘The central points of issue, Arjuna, are desire and lack of inner peace. Desire for the fruits of one‘s actions brings worry about possible failure — the quivering mind I mentioned. When you are preoccupied with end results you pull yourself from the present into an imagined, usually fearful future. Then your anxiety robs your energy and, making matters worse, you lapse into inaction and laziness.’”
— Krishna speaking to Arjuna (2.47) in The Bhagavad Gita: A Walkthrough for Westerners by Jack Hawley
“You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face…. You must do what you think you cannot do.”
— quoted from You Learn by Living: Eleven Keys for a More Fulfilling Life by Eleanor Roosevelt
This tricky thing about fear is that the mind-intellect can perceive and process things in the past, present, and/or future; which means we may find ourselves having a fear-based reaction to something in the past or something that has not (and may never) happen. This is why fear can prevent us from achieving our goals and desires. It can also cause us to build walls — emotionally, energetically, symbolically, and physically. In fact, construction of the Berlin Wall, which began today on Sunday, August 13, 1961, was at the intersection of a lot of fear.
Remember, during the Potsdam Conference at the end of World War II, the Allies decided to split Berlin and the rest of Germany into four different regions controlled by four different nations. The Soviet-controlled areas became the German Democratic Republic (GDR or DDR; German: Deutsche Demokratische Republik), also known as East Germany. The areas controlled by United States, the United Kingdom, and France became the Federal Republic of Germany (German: Bundesrepublik Deutschland), sometimes called Bonn Republic (German: Bonner Republik), and known as West Germany. East and West Berlin, as well as East and West Germany, ended up with vastly different socioeconomic and political cultures. Right off the bat, people on the East side would travel to East Berlin in order to crossover to West Berlin and then, from there, gained access to the rest of the “Free World.” In fact, prior to the wall being constructed approximately 3.5 million people defected from East Berlin — at a rate of about one thousand a day.
The wall did not go up all at once. It started off as a little over 100 miles of barbed wire and fencing put up in the wee hours of that Sunday morning in 1961: 156 km (97 mi) between the western regions and the eastern regions and another 43 km (27 mi) of wire dividing the cities of Berlin. Then a 6-foot tall wall of blocks was constructed, with bunkers. Within nine years, that 6-foot wall of blocks had become a 3.6-meter (11.8-foot) tall wall, with the barbed wire (and guards in the towers). The final wall included 155 km (96 miles) of wall around West Berlin and another 111.9 km (69.5 miles) of barrier between West Berlin and East Germany.
The wall decreased the number of defections; however, it did not completely prevent them. Between 1961 and 1989, when the Berlin Wall “fell,” about 100,000 people attempted to defect and approximately five thousand succeeded. An estimated 136 — 200 people died attempting to escape. Many of the deaths were in and around a gap created between two concrete walls which formed the 27 miles of barrier dividing Berlin. Known as the “death strip,” the gap was full of anti-vehicle trenches, guard dog runs, floodlights, and trip-wire machine guns. It was also overseen by guards in watchtowers who were ordered to shoot on sight.
Remember, although decades had passed, the construction of the Berlin Wall happened in the wake of World War II. People were still processing the trauma caused by the violence of the war and of the Holocaust, which were themselves the source and result of fear.
“However, if the process of non-violence is to be effective in counteracting violence, we must first describe and outline it clearly and methodically. Because violent thoughts always precede a violent act, an act of non-violence will be effective only if it is preceded by non-violent thoughts. Violence is an active phenomenon, whereas non-violence is mistakenly thought to be passive – simply the absence of violence. But passive non-violence has no power to extinguish the fire if violence. Non-violence must be as active as violence itself.”
— commentary on Yoga Sūtra 2.33 from The Practice of the Yoga Sutra: Sadhana Pada by Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, PhD
“The opposite of racist isn’t ‘not racist.’ It is ‘anti-racist.’ What’s the difference? One endorses either the idea of a racial hierarchy as a racist, or racial equality as an anti-racist. One either believes problems are rooted in groups of people, as a racist, or locates the roots of problems in power and policies, as an anti-racist. One either allows racial inequities to persevere, as a racist, or confronts racial inequities, as an anti-racist. There is no in-between safe space of ‘not racist.’”
— quoted from How to Be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi, PhD
When I first heard about Dr. Ibram X. Kendi, who was born in Jamaica, New York City on August 13, 1982, I thought the term “antiracist” was something new. In reality, however, Dr. Kendi recommends and teaches an idea that goes back to the beginning of the yoga philosophy. (NOTE: I’m not saying he’s teaching “yoga,” even though he is working to bring people together. I’m saying that he is teaching ancient wisdom.)
This wisdom is not simply bringing awareness to a situation and neither is it not doing something overtly harmful. It is bringing awareness to what is happening beneath the surface and actively, skillfully, moving in the opposite direction. Again, the premise behind “cultivating the opposites” is that, over time, we neutralize the force of past actions and, as a result, our habits and thoughts change. When our habits and thoughts change, the world changes. Doing this work can be scary — in fact, you may already feel yourself tightening up just at the thought. But, we must remember that being fearless is not the absence of fear, it is how we show up when we experience fear.
“Courage is the strength to do what is right in the face of fear, as the anonymous philosopher tells us. I gain insight into what’s right from antiracist ideas. I gain strength from fear. While many people are fearful of what could happen if they resist, I am fearful of what could happen if I don’t resist, I am fearful of cowardice. Cowardice is the inability to amass the strength to do what is right in the face of fear. And racist power has been terrorizing cowardice into us for generations.”
— quoted from How to Be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi, PhD
None of this is about being reckless and putting ourselves (or others) in danger. Neither is it about ignoring reality. Instead, the philosophers and leaders quoted throughout this post encourage us to face our fears. Again, this is not new advice. As noted above, it is the same advice found in ancient texts from India and (as noted below) it is the same advice found in the teachings of the Stoics. In fact, I imagine that if you research all the indigenous and modern cultures in the world, you will find lessons on fear and advice on cultivating fearlessness that is very, very similar.
Furthermore, we have plenty of opportunities to practice studying, observing, learning about, and understanding our fears. We can do it on the mat or the cushion; we can do it as we move through our days; and we can do it when some form of entertainment push our buttons.
“[Spoken: Alfred Hitchcock]
Thus far, this album has provided musical accompaniment to make your passing pleasant
Our next number is designed to drown out the sound of shovels
Music to be buried by
[Music begins]
Of course, your assassin may have made burial unnecessary
So, if you are completely encased in cement
And are teetering on the edge of a pier
Please try not to pay attention to this next number
It is not meant for you
As for the others, if you spend your evenings watching murder instead of doing it yourself
You may recognize this”
— quoted from Track 5, “Alfred Hitchcock Television Theme” on the album Alfred Hitchcock Presents Music to Be Murdered By by Alfred Hitchcock and Jeff Alexander (narration written by James Allardice; “Funeral March Of A Marionette” by Charles Gounod adapted by Jeff Alexander and Stanley Wilson)
Born today in London, today in 1899, Sir Alfred Hitchcock KBE liked to play with fear(s) and push people’s fear buttons. He directed and produced movies like The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog (1927); Blackmail (1929), was the first British “talkie;” The 39 Steps (1935); The Lady Vanishes (1938); Rebecca (1940); Shadow of a Doubt (1943); Strangers on a Train (1951), Dial M for Murder and Rear Window (both released in 1954); Psycho (1960); To Catch a Thief and The Trouble with Harry (both released in 1955); Vertigo (1958); North by Northwest (1959), and The Birds (1963). He was also the producer and host of the television anthology Alfred Hitchcock Presents (1955–65) and often made cameo appearances in his own movies. Like so many directors and producers, he liked to work with certain people, including Cary Grant and James Stewart (who were each in four movies) and Ingrid Bergman and Grace Kelly (who were each in three movies).
In addition to having nine of his films selected for preservation in the United States National Film Registry (as of 2021), Alfred Hitchcock received the British Academy of Film and Television Arts (BAFTA) Fellowship in 1971, the American Film Institute (AFI) Life Achievement Award in 1979, and was knighted in December of that 1979, just a few months before he died on April 29, 1980. His work also earned him six Academy Awards and an additional 40 Academy Award nominations — including five in the Best Director category.
Despite never winning the Academy Award for Best Director, the “Master of Suspense” did such a good job at manipulating emotional responses that even hearing the music (often composed by Bernard Herrmann), seeing a murder of crows or a rear window, and/or being in the shower can start tightening up the body. His name, voice, and infamous silhouette became so synonymous with his work that they can also activate the fear response. Another common Hitchcockian element was a simple plot device that existed long before he was born. It became more popular and more well-known by a name coined by the screenwriter Angus MacPhail1: MacGuffin (or McGuffin).
“Hitchcock explained how the MacGuffin got its name:
‘Two men are traveling on a train to Scotland. One of them is carrying an odd parcel. The other man says, “What have you there?” and the other answers, “A MacGuffin.”
‘“What’s a MacGuffin?”
‘“It’s a special device designed to trap wild lions in the Scottish Highlands.”
‘“But there aren’t any lions in the Scottish Highlands.”
‘“Then, there is no MacGuffin.”
‘The MacGuffin, you see, is only important if you think it’s important, and that’s my job as a director, to make you think it’s important.’”
— quoted from “II. British Films: Cub Director” in It’s Only a Movie: Alfred Hitchcock: A Personal Biography by Charlotte Chandler2
A McGuffin (or MacGuffin) can be anything — or anyone — that people in the movie are seeking. It could be a briefcase (or something inside a suitcase). It could be a jewel-encrusted statuette. It could be $40,000 or, as some people see it, a place in the snow where $920,000 was buried. It could be state secrets. It could be A Girl. While the MacGuffin (or McGuffin) motivates the characters and keeps the plot moving, it is the exact opposite of Checkov’s gun because it is ultimately inconsequential. The characters seem to forget about it or just put it aside. In fact, sometimes it is as if it was never in the story. Other times it is just never revealed to the audience.
A McGuffin (or MacGuffin) should not be confused with a “red herring,” because it is not intended to confuse or misdirect the audience. However, to be clear, Sir Alfred’s movies also include red herrings — sometimes in the form of suspenseful music or shadows that keep the audience primed for something to happen. In other words, the MacGuffin (or McGuffin) motivates the characters and puts them in their situations, while the red herring conditions the audience to fear on command.
“Hitchcock’s example of the MacGuffin emphasizes its impossible status: not only is the object that one [never has], but one cannot even isolate it as an idea. It remains necessarily empty, and yet functions as an engine for the Hitchcockian narrative. The emptiness of the MacGuffin as an object permits spectators to locate their satisfaction in the striving that it unleashes rather than identifying satisfaction with the discovery of its secret.”
— quoted from “The Empty Object” in “27. Hitchcock’s Ethics of Suspense: Psychoanalysis and the Devaluation of the Object” by Todd McGowan (as published in A Companion to Alfred Hitchcock, edited by Thomas Leitch and Leland Poague)
Take a moment to bring your awareness to what happens when you experience fear.
Are you someone who runs away from it… or towards it? Are you someone who likes to be fearless and play? Are you someone who tears down walls and barriers? Or, are you someone who builds walls?
“This great Nation will endure as it has endured, will revive and will prosper. So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself – nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.”
“Only a foolish optimist can deny the dark realities of the moment.”
— quoted from the March 4, 1933, Inaugural Speech by President Franklin Delano Roosevelt
“What conflicts with the courage of wisdom is desires and fears. The Stoics developed a profound doctrine of anxiety which also reminds us of recent analyses. They discovered that the object of fear is fear itself. ‘Nothing,’ says Seneca, ‘is terrible in things except fear itself.’ And Epictetus says, ‘For it is not death or hardship that is a fearful thing, but the fear of death and hardship.’ Our anxiety puts frightening masks over all men and things. If we strip them of these masks their own countenance appears and the fear they produce disappears. This is true even of death. Since every day a little of our life is taken from us–since we are dying every day–the final hour when we cease to exist does not itself bring death; merely completes the death process. The horrors connected with it are a matter of imagination. They vanish when the mask is taken from the image of death.”
— quoted from “Chapter 1. Being and Courage – Courage and Wisdom: The Stoics” in The Courage To Be (pub. 1952) by Paul Tillich
Tuesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “08132022 The McGuffin’s MacGuffin”]
NOTES:
1 Angus MacPhail worked with Sir Alfred Hitchcock on Aventure Malgache (1944, uncredited writer); Bon Voyage (1944, writer); Spellbound (1945, writer for adaptation); The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956, uncredited contributing writer); and The Wrong Man (1956, screenwriter). He very briefly worked on the script development for Vertigo, which may be why the movie opens with San Francisco detective John “Scottie” Ferguson (as played by James Stewart) involved in a rooftop chase.2 Alfred Hitchcock used variations of this MacGuffin story on more than one occasion, including during a lecture at Columbia University in New York City (in 1939) and in a series of interviews. In some versions the conclusion was that there were no lions in the Scottish Highlands because the device in the parcel worked.
“We are very afraid of being powerless. But we have the power to look deeply at our fears, and then fear cannot control us. We can transform our fear. Fear keeps us focused on the past or worried about the future. If we can acknowledge our fear, we can realize that right now we are okay. Right now, today, we are still alive, and our bodies are working marvelously. Our eyes can still see the beautiful sky. Our ears can still hear the voices of our loved ones.”
— quoted from Fear: Essential Wisdom for Getting Through the Storm by Thich Nhat Hanh
Extreme heat (and traumatic events) can not only make people lethargic and unmotivated, they can also lead to extreme agitation and anxiety-based fear. We may find it hard to think, hard to feel (or process our feelings), and/or hard to control our impulses. If you are struggling in the US, help is available just by dialing 988.
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).
### BE Fearless & PLAY. BE WISE.###
FTWMI: Here Be The Wild Things (a post-practice Monday re-post) June 10, 2024
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Art, Books, Changing Perspectives, Faith, Healing Stories, Life, Music, Pain, Philosophy, Religion, Suffering, Vairagya, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: 988, addiction, Alcoholics Anonymous, Anne Smith, asana, Bill Wilson, Counting the Omer, disability, Dr. Bob Smith, Dragon Boat Festival, Eastertide, Eugene Glenn, G. Alan Marlatt, Holocaust, In the Night Kitchen, Loss, Maurice Sendak, Mindfulness, Outside Over There, psychiatry, psychoanalysis, recovery, Richard Gottlieb, Stanton Peele, survivors, trauma, Where The Wild Things Are, yoga practice
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Happy Pride! Many blessings to everyone and especially to anyone observing Eastertide; Counting the Omer, and/or working to cultivate peace, freedom, and fulfillment (inside and outside).
For Those Who Missed It: The following was originally posted in 2020 and is related to the practice on Monday, June 10th. Some formatting, links, and 2024-related information have been updated or added. The 2024 prompt question was, “What is your concept of a sacred space?” 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).
Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.
Check out the “Class Schedules” calendar for upcoming classes.
“And so we have…this critical problem as human beings of seeing to it that the mythology—the constellation of sign signals, affect images, energy-releasing and -directing signs—that we are communicating to our young will deliver directive messages qualified to relate them richly and vitally to the environment that is to be theirs for life, and not to some period of man already past, some piously desiderated future, or—what is worst of all—some querulous, freakish sect or momentary fad. And I call this problem critical because, when it is badly resolved, the result for the miseducated individual is what is known, in mythological terms, as a Waste Land situation. The world does not talk to him; he does not talk to the world. When that is the case, there is a cut-off, the individual is thrown back on himself, and he is in prime shape for that psychotic break-away that will turn him into either an essential schizophrenic in a padded cell, or a paranoid screaming slogans at large, in a bughouse without walls.”
— quoted from A Joseph Campbell Companion: Reflections on the Art of Living by Joseph Campbell
How do we keep from becoming, to paraphrase Joseph Campbell, a screaming paranoid person? How do we face trauma, loss, and disability with a smile on our face, as Wayman Tisdale did? Maybe we have to go all the way back to the womb to figure out why some people survive the challenging circumstances they face in life. Maybe we have to go back even farther than that to see why some people just inherently know how to stay connected to their “inside stuff” even when life throws them one curve ball after another fast ball. Whatever the reason some people rebound and some people don’t (or don’t as easily as others), trying to figure out that reason has fascinated people since the beginning of time.
Children’s book author and illustrator Maurice Sendak, born today in 1928, in Brooklyn, New York, once said, “I only have one subject. The question I am obsessed with is: How do children survive?” Like the poets mentioned during the June 7th class, Mr. Sendak wrote about what he saw — and what he saw was a family decimated by the Holocaust and trying to acclimate to a new country and a new culture. He saw kids being kids, being alive and full of so much life despite the overwhelming and pervasive feeling of perpetual mourning. The adults called the unruly children “vilde chaya,” which is Yiddish for “wild animal.” Mr. Sendak turned it into “wild things” and wrote a children’s book that become the center of a trilogy about (you guessed it) how children survive and thrive.
“I grew up in a house that was in a constant state of mourning.”
— Maurice Sendak, quoted from a 2002 interview with children’s book historian Leonard Marcus
“’And now,’ cried Max, ‘let the wild rumpus start!’”
— quoted from Where The Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak
Where The Wild Things Are, published in 1963, tells the story of preschool-age Max who, as adults would have said during my childhood, gets a little too big for his britches. He is sent to his room without his dinner because he can’t behave and, as children do, he lets his imagination take over. His bedroom becomes a magical land full of wild animals, beasts, monsters….
[In 2020] My amazing friend Julie K just sent me a recent essay in The New Yorker about metaphorical monsters. I found it problematic because the identity of the monsters is too vague. Mr. Sendak, however, was always very clear; the monsters in his first book were the perpetually mourning and stern adults in his family. He just exaggerated them into something endearingly grotesque. As Max manages his emotions, becoming “king of all wild things” (a. k. a. the “most wild thing of all”), he finds his way back to the regular world. Managing one’s emotions, it turns out, is the secret to making one’s way back to the regular world.
“Your sacred space is where you can find yourself again and again. You really don’t have a sacred space, a rescue land, until you find somewhere to be that’s not a wasteland, some field of action where there is a spring of ambrosia—a joy that comes from inside, not something external that puts joy into you—a place that lets you experience your own will and your own intention and your own wish so that, in small, the Kingdom is there. I think everybody, whether they know it or not, is in need of such a place.”
— quoted from A Joseph Campbell Companion: Reflections on the Art of Living by Joseph Campbell
“There should be a place where only the things you want to happen, happen.”
— quoted from Where The Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak
As I mentioned before, Where The Wild Things Are was the first of a three-part series to be published, but it is actually the centerpiece to the trilogy. In The Night Kitchen (published in 1970) follows toddler-age Mickey as he falls, naked, into the Night Kitchen, where he has to avoid getting baked into the cake batter and eaten up. Max, again, is preschool-age. Outside Over There (published in 1981) features pre-adolescent Ida, who shirks her responsibility and then has to face the consequences of making things right. It is interesting to note that while there is always a symbol of a mother and evidence of a mother’s love in all three books, Ida is the only real-live human girl featured prominently in the books and she is given (in the book) the mother’s role of caregiver — a role she initially fails to take seriously.
“When Papa was away at sea and Mama in the arbor, Ida played her wonder horn to rock the baby still – but never watched.”
— quoted from Outside Over There by Maurice Sendak
Maurice Sendak’s trilogy is recognized as a series which traces the psychological development of children. Each protagonist has age appropriate responsibilities, feelings, thoughts, and emotions. Each protagonist also has to navigate and find balance between the (age appropriate) expectations of the simultaneously present yet absent parent(s) and their feelings, thoughts, and emotions. One of the emotions that figures prominently, especially in Where The Wild Things Are, is rage and one of the themes that figures prominently in the books is how to manage emotions like rage. Because, as I sated before, managing one’s emotions is the secret to making one’s way back to the regular world. It is the boon, as it were, of this particular hero’s journey/cycle.
“But it is more than mere survival that Sendak aspires to, for his children and for himself. He asks the question of resilience: How do children surmount and transform in order to prosper and create? It is tempting to imagine that Sendak conceives of the trajectory of his own life and art as a model for the way he has handled these questions in his works.”
— quoted from a 2009 The Psychologist article by psychoanalyst Richard Gottlieb
When Where The Wild Things Are was turned into a movie, therapists like Richard Gottlieb offered their clinical take on the book and the movie. Psychoanalyst and attorney Stanton Peele noted in a 2009 article for Psychology Today that Dr. G. Alan Marlatt, a psychologist who focused on addiction, “specifically developed mindfulness as a relapse prevention technique, one that assists addicted people to combat cravings. In brief, a user may imagine the urge to use again as a physical challenge – like a wave – that he or she rides out.” Then, Stanton Peele called Mr. Sendak’s work “a model of mindfulness.” For his part, Richard Gottlieb did not think it was an accident that Mr. Sendak’s work was so psychologically applicable. In fact, he specifically highlighted various “psychological proddings and teachings” which influenced Maurice Sendak’s life — including the fact that his partner (for over 50 years) was psychoanalyst Eugene Glenn — and shared bits of conversations with colleagues who also see the value in the book.
“I’m not the milk and the milk’s not me. I’m Mickey!”
— Mickey, quoted from In The Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak
Call it a coincidence, a cowinkydink, God winking, or serendipity, but it is interesting to note that Maurice Sendak, whose seminal book has been hailed and praised by addiction experts, was born on the anniversary of Dr. Bob Smith’s last drink, which is also the anniversary of Alcoholics Anonymous. Today in 1935, Bill Wilson and Dr. Smith’s wife Anne gave a severely hung-over Smith (a. k. a. “Dr. Bob”) a beer so that he would be “steady enough” to go into surgery. Hours beyond when the surgery should have ended, Smith announced that yes, the surgery was successful and that he had spent the remaining time reaching out to creditors and others he had hurt when he was drinking. Founded by Smith and Wilson, with support from Smith’s wife Anne, Alcoholics Anonymous is a 12-step rehabilitation program that has helped some people cope with alcoholism. It is also the model for other 12-step programs. While I have not counted the steps as they apply to Maurice Sendak’s work, there are very definite parallels in the way the main characters acknowledge their problems, turn inward, and offer restitution and express remorse. There are also, in the books and in recovery, humongous amounts of love and forgiveness (in particular, self-love and self-forgiveness).
“If Ida backwards in the rain would only turn around again and catch those goblins with a tune, she’d spoil their kidnap honeymoon!”
— quoted from Papa’s song in Outside Over There by Maurice Sendak
NOTE: For some people, a sacred space is on the outside; for some it is on the inside; and for some it is both. For some it is all of that mixed in with tradition, ritual, and intention. Ultimately, to go back to the words of Joseph Campbell and Maurice Sendak, it is a place where everything falls into place — where we have good “luck.” It is a place we have to find and/or cultivate, as we do in our practice and as some people do during the Dragon Boat Festival.
The 2024 practice coincided with the Dragon Boat Festival in China and other parts of Southeast Asia. Held on the fifth day of the fifth month of the lunar calendar, the celebration (and it’s counterparts in places like Korea, Japan, and Vietnam), features dragon boat races, dumplings, and what some consider “the poor man’s fireworks.” Since double fives (in Chinese) is considered inauspicious, some people will make a point to protect their homes and/or offices by adorning their doors with garlic and flowers that repel insects. Some will also stick pins in pictures of five poisonous animals — a snake, centipede, scorpion, lizard, toad, and/or spider — as a way to ward off illness or bad fortune.
“Quiet down there!”
— Mickey, quoted from In The Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak
There is no playlist for the Common Ground Meditation Center practices.
Since music soothes the wild beasts, the goblins, and the cooks, the 2020 playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “06102020 Here Be The Wild Things”]
MUSIC NOTE: YouTube is the original playlist and includes the video below.
My all time favorite rendition!
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).
### “I’LL EAT YOU UP!”• “I LOVE YOU!” ###
A Note & EXCERPT: “Not So De-Lovely Circumstance(s)?” June 9, 2024
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in "Impossible" People, Basketball, Changing Perspectives, Depression, Healing Stories, Health, Hope, Life, Loss, Men, Music, One Hoop, Pain, Philosophy, Religion, Suffering, Tragedy, Wisdom, Yoga.Tags: 988, accident, amputation, cancer, Changing Perspectives, Cole Porter, disability, jazz, Loss, Matthew Sanford, mental health, Mind Body Solutions, music, trauma, Wayman Tisdale, yoga philosophy, yoga practice
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Happy Pride! Many blessings to everyone and especially to anyone observing the Sunday of the Blind Man and Eastertide; Counting the Omer, and/or working to “misbehaving” in the name of peace, freedom, and fulfillment (inside and outside).
“‘You can never give up because quitting is not an option,’ [Wayman] Tisdale says. ‘No matter how dark it is or how weak you get, until you take that last breath, you must fight.’”
— quoted from the Dec. 3, 2008 ESPN article “Tisdale reaches for his biggest rebound” by Anna K. Clemmons
The first question I asked in a 2020 blog post (see below) was, “Have you ever experienced trauma, loss, and disability?”
During yesterday’s practice, I mentioned how the trajectory of Robert Schumann’s life and career changed when he lost sensation in his right pinky finger. Eventually, he loss the use and dexterity of his whole right hand. The physical trauma, loss, and disability took an emotional toll that eventually landed him in sanatorium. Coincidentally, today is the anniversary of the birth of Cole Porter (b. 1891) and Wayman Tisdale (b. 1964) — two people who shared a lot in common with Robert Schumann, including music, love, and trauma, loss, and disability… again on the right side. However, they dealt with their circumstances in very different ways.
Click on the title of the excerpt below for the entire 2020 post about Cole Porter and Wayman Tisdale.
“Sad times, may follow your tracks
Bad times, may bar you from Sak’s
At times, when Satan in slacks
Breaks down your self control
Maybe, as often it goes
Your Abe-y, may tire of his rose
So baby, this rule I propose
Always have an ace in the hole.”
— quoted from the song “Ace in the Hole” by Cole Porter
Please join me for a 65-minute virtual yoga practice on Zoom today (Sunday, June 9th) at 2:30 PM. Use the link from the “Class Schedules” calendar if you run into any problems checking into the class. You can request an audio recording of this practice via a comment below or by emailing myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com.
Sunday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. [Look for “06092020 Not So De-Lovely Circumstance(s)”]
If you are thinking about suicide, worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, you can dial 988 (in the US) or call 1-800-273-TALK (8255) for the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. You can also call this TALK line if you are struggling with addiction or involved in an abusive relationship. The Lifeline network is free, confidential, and available to all 24/7. YOU CAN TALK ABOUT ANYTHING.
White Flag is a new app, which I have not yet researched, but which may be helpful if you need peer-to-peer (non-professional) support.
If you are a young person in crisis, feeling suicidal, or in need of a safe and judgement-free place to talk, you can also click here to contact the TrevorLifeline (which is staffed 24/7 with trained counselors).
In the spirit of generosity (“dana”), the Zoom classes, recordings, and blog posts are freely given and freely received. If you are able to support these teachings, please do so as your heart moves you. (NOTE: You can donate even if you are “attending” a practice that is not designated as a “Common Ground Meditation Center” practice, or you can purchase class(es).
Donations are tax deductible; class purchases are not necessarily deductible.
Check out the “Class Schedules” calendar for upcoming classes.
### NOTICE HOW YOU DEAL WITH CIRCUMSTANCES
(whether they be the de-lovely kind or not) ###
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 25th. Links in the 4th 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 15th 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 ###
[a prologue for] the Birthday of Poets June 7, 2021
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Uncategorized.Tags: asana, Gwendolyn Brooks, insight, inspiration, Life, Loss, Louise Erdrich, Love, Nikki Giovanni, Poetry, Prince Rogers Nelson, protests, trauma, truth, yoga
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[Originally posted June 7, 2020, the poem below references (and links to) the works of poets – or my practice posts about the poets – who were born today in 1919, 1943, 1954, and 1958. You can request an audio recording of Monday’s practice or last year’s June 7th 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. If you are using an Apple device/browser and the calendar is no longer loading, please email me at myra (at) ajoyfulpractice.com at least 20 minutes before the practice you would like to attend.]
Today I bring you poetry. True
It is no longer poetry month / but
It is the birthday of poets – and so,
I bring you their words, their lyrics, their music.
I bring you their movement, and
their Movements.
I bring you POC [Poets of Color],
NOT because of what’s happening…
BUT because…
That is what I’ve always done, while you pose… {Did you not notice?}
AND
Today is the birthday of poets.
Nikki dared you to listen to “The Song of the Feet” (and apply
Hear The Painted Drum (Louise, please…more:)
Gwendolyn wrote “about what I saw and heard in the street,”
and asked us what we would do “with all this life.” Then she warned us…
“that we are each other’s
harvest:
we are each other’s
business:
we are each other’s
magnitude and bond.”
Looks like we failed to listen, even
To the royal “Condition of the Heart”
Now, birds cry in the snow and the rain,
“I think I know a better way y’all.”
And I ask,
are you “Willing and Able”
“America”? “Around the World…”?
Anybody?
– whisper, shout, scream, or –
will we continue to be “like a child lost in the wilderness [?]”
If we live, we [still only] have two choices:
“[we’ll] either learn or we won’t;”
“growing up or decaying.”
(One requires love & listening “to [y]our own Black heart[s].”)
Of course…
those were our choices all along.
©MKR 2020
There is no playlist for the Common Ground practice. Last year’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. (Interlude music is different between the playlists. YouTube is the original.)
### DON’T WASTE ANY SWEETNESS ###
Here Be The Wild Things June 10, 2020
Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Art, Books, Changing Perspectives, Faith, Healing Stories, Life, Music, Pain, Philosophy, Religion, Suffering, Vairagya, Wisdom, Writing, Yoga.Tags: addiction, Alcoholics Anonymous, Anne Smith, asana, Bill Wilson, disability, Dr. Bob Smith, Eugene Glenn, G. Alan Marlatt, Holocaust, In the Night Kitchen, Loss, Maurice Sendak, Mindfulness, Outside Over There, psychiatry, psychoanalysis, recovery, Richard Gottlieb, Stanton Peele, survivors, trauma, Where The Wild Things Are, yoga practice
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“And so we have…this critical problem as human beings of seeing to it that the mythology—the constellation of sign signals, affect images, energy-releasing and -directing signs—that we are communicating to our young will deliver directive messages qualified to relate them richly and vitally to the environment that is to be theirs for life, and not to some period of man already past, some piously desiderated future, or—what is worst of all—some querulous, freakish sect or momentary fad. And I call this problem critical because, when it is badly resolved, the result for the miseducated individual is what is known, in mythological terms, as a Waste Land situation. The world does not talk to him; he does not talk to the world. When that is the case, there is a cut-off, the individual is thrown back on himself, and he is in prime shape for that psychotic break-away that will turn him into either an essential schizophrenic in a padded cell, or a paranoid screaming slogans at large, in a bughouse without walls.”
– from A Joseph Campbell Companion: Reflections on the Art of Living by Joseph Campbell
How do we keep from becoming, to paraphrase Joseph Campbell, a screaming paranoid person? How do we face trauma, loss, and disability with a smile on our face, as Wayman Tisdale did? Maybe we have to go all the way back to the womb to figure out why some people survive the challenging circumstances they face in life. Maybe we have to go back even farther than that to see why some people just inherently know how to stay connected to their “inside stuff” even when life throws them one curve ball after another fast ball. Whatever the reason some people rebound and some people don’t (or don’t as easily as others), trying to figure out that reason has fascinated people since the beginning of time.
Children’s book author and illustrator Maurice Sendak, born today in 1928, in Brooklyn, New York, once said, “I only have one subject. The question I am obsessed with is: How do children survive?” Like the poets mentioned during Sunday’s class (06/07/2020), Sendak wrote about what he saw – and what he saw was a family decimated by the Holocaust and trying to acclimate to a new country and a new culture. He saw kids being kids, being alive and full of so much life despite the overwhelming and pervasive feeling of perpetual mourning. The adults called the unruly children “vilde chaya,” which is Yiddish for “wild animal.” Sendak turned it into “wild things” and wrote a children’s book that become the center of a trilogy about (you guessed it) how children survive and thrive.
“I grew up in a house that was in a constant state of mourning.”
– Maurice Sendak in a 2002 interview with children’s book historian Leonard Marcus
“’And now,’ cried Max, ‘let the wild rumpus start!’”
– from Where The Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak
Where The Wild Things Are, published in 1963, tells the story of preschool-age Max who, as adults would have said during my childhood, gets a little too big for his britches. He is sent to his room without his dinner because he can’t behave and, as children do, he lets his imagination take over. His bedroom becomes a magical land full of wild animals, beasts, monsters….
My amazing friend Julie K just sent me a recent essay in The New Yorker about metaphorical monsters. I found it problematic because the identity of the monsters is too vague. Sendak, however, was always very clear; the monsters in his first book were the perpetually mourning and stern adults in his family. He just exaggerated them into something endearingly grotesque. As Max manages his emotions, becoming “king of all wild things” (a. k. a. the “most wild thing of all”), he finds his way back to the regular world. Managing one’s emotions, it turns out, is the secret to making one’s way back to the regular world.
“Your sacred space is where you can find yourself again and again. You really don’t have a sacred space, a rescue land, until you find somewhere to be that’s not a wasteland, some field of action where there is a spring of ambrosia—a joy that comes from inside, not something external that puts joy into you—a place that lets you experience your own will and your own intention and your own wish so that, in small, the Kingdom is there. I think everybody, whether they know it or not, is in need of such a place.”
– from A Joseph Campbell Companion: Reflections on the Art of Living by Joseph Campbell
“There should be a place where only the things you want to happen, happen.”
– from Where The Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak
As I mentioned before, Where The Wild Things Are was the first of a three-part series to be published, but it is actually the centerpiece to the trilogy. In The Night Kitchen (published in 1970) follows toddler-age Mickey as he falls, naked, into the Night Kitchen, where he has to avoid getting baked into the cake batter and eaten up. Max, again, is preschool-age. Outside Over There (published in 1981) features pre-adolescent Ida, who shirks her responsibility and then has to face the consequences of making things right. It is interesting to note that while there is always a symbol of a mother and evidence of a mother’s love in all three books, Ida is the only real-live human girl featured prominently in the books and she is given (in the book) the mother’s role of caregiver – a role she initially fails to take seriously.
“When Papa was away at sea and Mama in the arbor, Ida played her wonder horn to rock the baby still – but never watched.”
– from Outside Over There by Maurice Sendak
Maurice Sendak’s trilogy is recognized as a series which traces the psychological development of children. Each protagonist has age appropriate responsibilities, feelings, thoughts, and emotions. Each protagonist also has to navigate and find balance between the (age appropriate) expectations of the simultaneously present yet absent parent(s) and their feelings, thoughts, and emotions. One of the emotions that figures prominently, especially in Where The Wild Things Are, is rage and one of the themes that figures prominently in the books is how to manage emotions like rage. Because, as I sated before, managing one’s emotions is the secret to making one’s way back to the regular world. It is the boon, as it were, of this particular hero’s journey/cycle.
“But it is more than mere survival that Sendak aspires to, for his children and for himself. He asks the question of resilience: How do children surmount and transform in order to prosper and create? It is tempting to imagine that Sendak conceives of the trajectory of his own life and art as a model for the way he has handled these questions in his works.”
– from a 2009 The Psychologist article by psychoanalyst Richard Gottlieb
When Where The Wild Things Are was turned into a movie, therapists like Richard Gottlieb offered their clinical take on the book and the movie. Psychoanalyst and attorney Stanton Peele noted in a 2009 article for Psychology Today that Dr. G. Alan Marlatt, a psychologist who focused on addiction, “specifically developed mindfulness as a relapse prevention technique, one that assists addicted people to combat cravings. In brief, a user may imagine the urge to use again as a physical challenge – like a wave – that he or she rides out.” Then, Peele called Sendak’s work “a model of mindfulness.” For his part, Gottlieb did not think it was an accident that Sendaks’ work was so psychologically applicable. In fact, he specifically highlights various “psychological proddings and teachings” which influenced Sendak’s life – including the fact that his partner (for over 50 years) was psychoanalyst Eugene Glenn – and shares bits of conversations with colleagues who also see the value in the book.
“I’m not the milk and the milk’s not me. I’m Mickey!”
– Mickey in In The Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak
Call it a coincidence, a coinkydink, God winking, or serendipity, but it is interesting to note that Maurice Sendak, whose seminal book has been hailed and praised by addiction experts, was born on the anniversary of Dr. Bob Smith’s last drink, which is also the anniversary of Alcoholics Anonymous. Today in 1935, Bill Wilson and Smith’s wife Anne gave a severely hung-over Smith (a. k. a. “Dr. Bob”) a beer so that he would be “steady enough” to go into surgery. Hours beyond when the surgery should have ended, Smith announced that yes, the surgery was successful and that he had spent the remaining time reaching out to creditors and others he had hurt when he was drinking. Founded by Smith and Wilson, with support from Smith’s wife Anne, Alcoholics Anonymous is a 12-step rehabilitation program that has helped some people cope with alcoholism. It is also the model for other 12-step programs. While I have not counted the steps as they apply to Maurice Sendak’s work, there are very definite parallels in the way the main characters acknowledge their problems, turn inward, and offer restitution and express remorse. There are also, in the books and in recovery, humongous amounts of love and forgiveness (in particular, self-love and self-forgiveness).
“Quiet down there!”
– Mickey In The Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak
“If Ida backwards in the rain would only turn around again and catch those goblins with a tune, she’d spoil their kidnap honeymoon!”
– Papa’s song in Outside Over There
Please join me today (Wednesday, June 10th) at 4:30 PM or 7:15 PM for a practice inspired by the inner workings of a child’s heart and mind. 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.
Since music soothes the wild beasts, the goblins, and the cooks, Wednesday’s playlist is available on YouTube and Spotify. (NOTE: YouTube is the original playlist and includes the video below.)
My all time favorite rendition!