The White House Farmer
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Voting is still open, see The White House Farmer. (Pretty sure this is a non-partisan position).
Perception and Illusion (maya)
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I have been thinking about perception and how as soon as we have more than one person looking at the same thing, each person has a different story, a different truth, a different explanation. Add to that the mysterious systems humans have created: information technology, cyberspace, monetary system. All of these are energy fields. We can only perceive small pieces of them, and we have varying degrees of skepticism about the reality of what we get from them. It is not a hard leap from that to understand what the yogis are saying when they say what we receive through the senses is illusory (maya).
We read news articles about the fact that Yo-Yo Ma was not playing at the Inauguration, but just moving his hands over the instrument to a recorded tape. Why would I believe the news stories more than I would believe what was on the “jumbo-trons” — or if I had been one of the few close in, what I’d thought I’d seen and heard? Why would I be more likely to believe the Inauguration of President Obama if I saw it on TV than I would the story line of a movie? How is it that we distinguish between news and fiction, our side of the story v. the other person’s side?
When we emphasize the “reality” of our own perception, we bring ourselves to schisms, disputes, and hurt feelings. When we let ourselves be skeptical about our own perceptions and know that they are only one aspect of a unity (like the blind men and the elephant), then we can be softer, more open, and less divisive. I am working on this; it is a challenging aspect of my yoga practice. What do you think?
Prithvi (the earth element) and Muscular Energy
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The first of the mahabhutas is prithvi or earth. When I think of the earth element, I think of stability, grounding, earthiness, nurture. My experience is that I can more deeply connect to this element in ourselves by emphasizing what John Friend has termed “muscular energy” in my yoga practice.
As with all practices from an Anusara perspective, I try to start with the principle of “opening to grace.” In this context, opening to grace can mean being sensitive to our earthiness and how it manifests energetically in us. I have found that it can lead to my foundation and connection to the earth and invite a soft weightiness.
Muscular energy has three essential physical/energetic actions: (1) hugging all of the muscles to the bone; (2) drawing to the midline (our central energetic channel); and (3) drawing energy from the periphery to the focal point of the pose. See J. Friend, Anusara Teacher Training Manual (Anusara Press, The Woodlands, TX). These three actions combined help stabilize us; they nurture by inviting us to give ourselves an unceasing self-embrace initiated from our opening to the good in the energies around us (like the loving hug of an “earth mother”); and they bring our focus from the physical extremities to our core, thus reminding us to bring our physical body to the support of the energetic body and spirit.
When I am feeling ungrounded, unsettled, or needing a little love, I remind myself to emphasize muscular energy and open to and invite in the light-filled energy all around me.
Warm Feeling (from an unexpected place)
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For the past hour or so, one of my neighbors has been shoveling the sidewalk. He is a young teenager; for a while a younger girl was out with him, too. They both had shovels and were working pretty vigorously. I always wave and say hi to these neighbors, but have an uneasy relationship with them. In the 19 years I have lived on the block, various members of the household (though not these particular kids) have broken into my house and threatened me and my neighbors. People who live in the house and their visitors regularly throw litter into my yard, and other neighbors have reported that they have caught kids currently living in the house throwing stones at houses and cars.
The shoveling was going on for a long time and the sounds were getting closer. Sure enough, this young man, perhaps because he was feeling trapped by being stuck in the house all day and was feeling full of energy, was shoveling the entire sidewalk, including the space in front of my house. I am delighted and grateful. I was not looking forward to going out and doing it myself. I will make certain to thank him. He has reminded me that I need always to be open to receiving the good from whatever source, however unexpected.
Wintry Mix
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As I write, big fat flakes of snow are falling against a pale gray sky that is struggling to turn to daylight. It is too early to know how much of the storm will be snow or freezing rain or just plain rain, though all are both possible and probable. If there is mostly snow or mostly rain, some of those I know will be sure to say the weather forecast is never right. My experience is that the weather forecasters are usually quite accurate about pointing out the probabilities and then sometimes the probabilities at the far end of the spectrum are the ones that happen, which makes the forecast apparently off the mark.
I am always entranced with the anticipation of a storm. It only takes the slightest shift in temperature in the atmosphere or a move of a degree or two of the pressure system for there to be a dramatic change in the outcome — a day of rain or a half an inch of ice or several inches of snow. I think all relationships — to places, jobs, people, illnesses, our meditation practices are like that. Just the subtlest shifts in atmosphere and attitude and the whole thing can seem completely different. What I continue to work on is to open to the best path that results from the combination of factors. If because of a less than optimal shift, there is an ice storm with power outages and downed wires and trees, then I try to learn why it happened, see the beauty, and try to shift in a better way. It is hard, and I do not always succeed, but I continue to make the effort.
I remember my first big icestorm. I was in high school and at a big party a few miles from my parents house. We were teenagers and mostly oblivious. We just thought it was raining and continued partying. At some point, we realized that everything was coated with ice, and then we needed to start calling on help to get home. It was disappointing to have the party end prematurely, but very exciting to have the wild and unusual weather. And the next morning, when the temperature dropped and the sun came out, the whole world glittered.
Baksheesh and Brahman
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I spent a few hours this weekend reading Joseph Campbell’s Baksheesh and Brahman, which is Campbell’s journals from a year in India from 1954-55 (I’m now about a third of the way through). Campbell writes that he went to India to find Brahman and instead found politics. He approached his visit from the perspective of a mythologist. In contrast to Allen Ginsberg and the Beats, who went to India to find God, Joseph Campbell went to observe religious practices. Although the journals evidence his own perspective and prejudices, he makes cogent observations on the difference between religiosity and spirituality (not all that dissimilar to the distinctions made in the Bhagavad Gita about the difference between rigidly practicing ritual and truly believing). He also makes very interesting and still timely and cogent comparisons between the relationship of Hinduism and to the then rather new Indian nationalism and American Protestantism to democracy.
Ultimately, though, it is evident that this year was important for Campbell’s life path and work, as it was for the Beats, and has been for many of my friends who have gone, though not for all. I think about going to India. It will be when I have several weeks and don’t have a venerable and ancient cat who cannot be left behind for a long stretch of time. In the meantime, reading of such journeys can stimulate thought and can be applied to other aspects of my life, though reading and studying (especially in the yoga tradition), is never a substitute for experience. Just reading of spiritual experiences, but not doing the practices to open the door to one’s own experience is like reading cooking or gardening books, but never going into the kitchen or the garden.
Mahabhutas (the great elements)
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The mahabhutas are the grossest, most physical of the 36 tattvas described in Kashmir Shaivism. They are: prithivi — earth or solidity; ap (or jala) — water or liquidity, agni (or tejas) — fire or formativity; vayu — air; akasha — space. When we practice asana, we can focus our practice on discovering one of the elements in our bodies and how we move. As we get more skillful, we can choose which element seems out of balance and emphasize one or the other to bring ourselves more into balance. This week, for example, I have noticed that my mind has been scattered and distracted because of all of the excitement of the Inauguration. After being blown about by the cold and the wind and all the excitement, I had gotten to airy (which is my tendency anyway). It is a good time, therefore, to explore prithivi (earth) in my practice. By emphasizing a strong foundation coupled with the Anusara principle of muscular energy, I can literally bring myself to a more solid, stable, and grounded state.
We can work with the tattvas as described above, to realign our energies so that our physical and mental state is more balanced. We can also explore the more concrete tattvas as we embody them to understand better how they are manifestations of the subtler tattvas — the tattvas that the great yogis who have described them would call more real and we dwelling in our bodies and minds might think of as observably less real. Where we can best appreciate and experience the relationship between the gross and the subtle elements is in meditation, and our asana practice can help lead us there.
Look forward this week to working with the earth element in your bodies and minds, practicing strong standing poses and shaping your physical and energetic bodies like clay. Use your earth nature to sculpt the art of your intention.
For suggested readings see my earlier post on the tattvas.
A Personal God (Ishta Devata)
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My earliest exposure to eastern mysticism was through Salinger and the Beats, which I read avidly in high school and even junior high. The Beats were hipper and smarter than I could ever hope to be (and they weren’t so good to the women, but that’s another avenue to discuss and explore), but I could check out the Beats call to the east. One of the reasons I found the Beats use of the eastern imagery so compelling, was that I wasn’t expected to believe, I was just expected to understand how the imagery could open me up to new experiences and understandings of the deeper self and how it fits into the web of being.
I just finished reading Deborah Baker’s A Blue Hand, The Beats in India, which is an unsentimental, not particularly flattering, but most interesting account of the Beats and their time spent in India and how it influenced their work. This particular passage resonated with one of the issues that I wrestle with as study yoga and its underpinning philosophy and its relationship to my personal experience of “spirit”: “Mr. Jain explained to Allen [Ginsberg] that all gods are unreal, but most Hindus choose one and use the image of that god (either a picture or a statue) to focus on during prayers, to quiet the mind and soak the heart in the gentle vibes it radiated. Or, after taking your measure, your guru might assign you a god. Apparently, there was a personal god for everyone, Allen [Ginsberg] reported to Jack [Keroac], tailored to your temperament, desires, or inclinations.”
Have you found that the characteristics or image presented by one of the pantheon resonates more deeply with you than the others?
Other interesting books about the Beats experiences in India: Indian Journals, Allen Ginsberg, Passage Through India, Gary Snyder
Buy a Coffee Mug (and never forget)
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I didn’t buy a coffee mug, but I did take the picture. If only remembering was as easy as buying a souvenir. Memory, though, it much more ephemeral. I’ll remember this day. Sometimes I will deliberately recall it. Sometimes, images will come unbidden as something triggers a memory, just as the solicitation by a friend last week to support an orphanage in Peru brought back the thought of 9/11. I had been in Peru at the retreat center that supports the orphanage when the planes hit the World Trade Center. I hope for news tomorrow of the imminent closing of Guantanamo to start reshaping our relationship to 9/11.
Privilege and Periphery
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At about 10:30 am, I left my house and walked over to the Capitol. I knew that by leaving the house at that hour, instead of at 7am, I would be outside the fence, but I instead practiced in the morning and opened myself to the sense of amazement and hope filling my city.
My friends who were inside the fence either are press or have other jobs that got them an invitation or they arrived at 5am to volunteer. I look forward to hearing their stories and seeing their pictures.
It felt urgent to be present for this occasion. One of the things that made it especially poignant is that where I went was on my walk to work. I forget, sometimes, the import of the capitol and the Mall because they are so much a part of my daily geography.
The audio visual we had in my spot just north of the Capitol (turned out to be next to the cannons for the salute) was a couple of ipods with speakers and boom boxes, rather than the big, fancy rock concert screens, but we were in fact physically closer than most on the Mall. Some of us were just happy to be there together celebrating and being less densely packed into the crowd. Some, so used to being marginalized by society — being able to see privilege and insider status, but have it be completely out of reach — grumbled that they might as well have stayed home as they witnessed even those with tickets not getting through the security lines towards the end.
But every one was hushed, even in the crowd, even without a view, for the oath of office and for the President’s speech. It was a privilege to stand with these neighbors and fellow citizens. It was an honor to see grown men unashamed to let their eyes fill with tears as they witnessed what they never saw they would see in the Nation’s Capitol, in their town, an African-American President.
I am filled with hope, not because I think there will be almost instantaneous and miraculous “change,” but because we have just witnessed an enormous step in a better direction.
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