Monthly Archives: October 2008

Springsteen, Halloween, and Yoga Practice

Posted on by
Reply

HAPPY HALLOWEEN YOGINIS & YOGIS!

This is our day – a day to enter the dark side of human consciousness. A night to explore the moon shadows in our existence. Meditate on all of your faces, not just the snappy one you wear to work.

What do you look like at your lowest level of being?

Can you embrace the parts of yourself that you are afraid of, the aspects you don’t want to see when you look in the mirror?

Yoga teaches us to bring together the sun and moon – and that that is our power. Acceptance is the first step in becoming who you truly are.

water eel skeleton found at Lake Erie State Park - Halloween 2008

I walked Lake Erie Park this afternoon with one of my dearest friends. Suitably, for Halloween, the beach was littered with beautiful dead loons, bloated corpses of carp, and spines and skulls of deer, fish, rodents, birds, and the goddess knows what-all. We walked the sandy cemetery searching for bits of shining beach glass that was strewn among the corpses and shale. Talk of tumors, breakups, friendship, regrets, pine knots, and menstruation wove threads like the crazy quilt conversation between two good friends so often does.

All of a piece – this life. Yoga: I feel more alive than ever, and yet practice being more dead than imaginable.

The sky was as blue as a dream and the maples blazed auburn and gold. The water rocked us in its endless murmur of abundance, complexity.

A side note: The video Bruce Springsteen posted as a gift since he didn’t decorate his Rumson home and he’s not going to open up for trick or treaters this year. I have my own stories of growing up on the Jersey shore near the Pine Barrens. I was the cook for the Children of God back in 1972 and it was my job to cover the stove, hiding whenever a plane flew overhead. We didn’t want the FBI or the Black Panthers or retaliatory parents to find us. Freaky stuff for a 17 year old.

Anyway, Bruce and the band played at ALL of my little Catholic high school dances (remember when kids went to dances?). I complained to the student council pres: Why did we have to have the same band all the time and he replied that it was because they were SO GOOD!

I didn’t fully appreciate The Boss until a couple of years later, living with a bunch of college students in a shared house in Ann Arbor. They played all of those early albums relentlessly and eventually so did I. His lyrics echoed so clearly what it was like growing up under the boardwalk.

Hope you enjoy your All HAllOW’S Eve. Let it teach you about yourself. It’s all part of the practice. If you can, share with us what you learn.

Martha’s Yoga

Posted on by
2

It’s great to see where yoga is going and it’s wonderful to watch newbies – folks who’ve NEVER done any yoga and listen to their reactions. While creeping through Martha’s blog, I found her and her niece teaching yoga at Fortune’s Most Powerful Women’s Summit….eeee gads, who woulda thought? Lots of big name women who had never chanted an om in their life were there practicing ardha matsyandrasana like nobody’s business. And Martha Stewart was teaching them! Yoga has indeed gone corporate;now we need to keep going back to the source to ensure its authenticity.

Authenticity is an individual affair. It’s the intention that needs to stay present and the intention needs to include being present.

When someone achieves fame and fortune as Martha Stewart has, it is heartwarming to see how she uses her gifts for the greater good. Rock on Martha. Namaste.

You can view the photos of the yoga class here: Martha’s Photo Albums

Click on the Fortune Summit link and then type in “yoga” in the search box.

Posted using ShareThis

Ringing, Chanting om

Posted on by
1

It’s ironic that at a workshop titled Inner and Outer Strength, chanting made the strongest impression. Well, maybe not; maybe the hard asana work prepared the channels and enabled an opening as never heretofore experienced? Chanting does require inner strength of the vocal chords and deep release of the diaphragm.

In the white studio, thirty voices intoned OM in thirty different intonations. I, too, opened my mouth and a sound welled from deep in my torso. Gradually it grew louder and pitched higher as I traveled with it:

A – O – U – M.

Up from the belly, into the solar plexus, through the heart center, rising in the throat, finally vibrating between my eyebrows. Then a deep inbreath, opening my mouth – and as I find the deep inner place from which om begins – the sound is released, flying into the flock of oms in the room. Some large and deep, some resonant and harmonic, some high and sweet. All one energy.

Over and over the oms played louder, softer, faster, deeper. Over and over I let them go; I let sound happen through me as if releasing a long pent-up voice.

chautauqua secret garden bridge

The primordial voice that existed before “I” was, before the universe existed rang outward and inward. Becoming transparent to sound, I tried to hold it, though it never stayed. Without my thinking or expecting, the energy carried me across another bridge.

Eventually there were no more students, or teachers, or moms, professors, midwives, writers, bloggers, musicians, Techies, yogis, gardeners, poets, grammas. The sound erased personas as each voice moved on its own, emanating from ever-deepening channels within.

The vibration filled the room. I was aware of it and not aware of it. Eventually there were no individuals at all. Just sound. A flight of harmonics and energy. There was nothing to do, just keep sounding OOOOooooommmmm.

Like a lover after the fact, the chant eventually would wind down – the vibration still there, though softer. I opened my mouth to receive the sensation which became a fine humming – a string vibrating inside me and in the room. Then the sound was no longer present; sound gave way to silence and I became aware of a vibrant ringing, maybe my body was rocking, but I am not sure. Waves of energy throbbed and passed through me. All was vibration and nothing else. My body had become a bell and in all directions there was ringing.

Panterra garden buddha

Existence made sense. There was no denying that I was alive and that being alive equaled this bliss.

Wild Turkeys – Interbeing

Posted on by
Reply

While walking around the yard this afternoon, thinking about the myriad garden chores that need to be done before the white stuff blankets my green babies, I heard a strange whistling. Turning around, Tom & Terry Turkey strutted with Junior trailing not far away. If you’ve never seen one of these quirky birds, check out National Geographic’s Turkey Trot. Seeing me notice them, they quietly slipped through the neighbor’s Rose of Sharon bushes and disappeared from sight.

Fredonia Brunnera leaf

I checked the Brunnera divisions I’d planted midsummer, and meditated upon how much like the turkey I am. Silently I wander the yard everyday, looking for food when it’s available, but mostly just enjoying being in the *natural* environment. This summer the turkeys have taken to meandering through the neighborhood, checking backyard bird feeders. Previously they came out of the hills only in deep winter, apparently looking for food.

Yesterday when Mike and I began our walk, a Bald Eagle circled above, soaring in the thermals – Its white head and tail clearly defining our national symbol. I cocked my head back and waved, wondering if s/he saw me. Eagles have such incredible vision.

Do turkeys have a sense of aesthetic and enjoy being with the plants as much as I do? Does the eagle relish the feel of a warm breeze on its skin? Are we all simply looking for food and nourishment wherever we go?

The Vietnamese Zen master, Thich Nhat Hanh, delivers a story of inter-being in his his classic text, PEACE IS EVERY STEP. He relates how everything is related to the piece of paper (or the computer screen I’d add) you may be reading now is related to everything else, from the tree the paper was made from to the logger’s family to you with your perception of the words, and then all of your contacts; well, you get the idea. Can we hold all beings at equal distance, not loving one more than another? Can we, as Lovingkindness meditation master, Sharon Salzburg says on her Lovingkindness meditation cd, exist beyond the barriers of us against them? Can we love ourselves that much – so that we recognize ourselves in the turkey or the eagle?

I snipped a Winter Sunset Rosebud to enjoy on these chilly days indoors, then I fill my pocket with the last of the green beans dangling on vines like ribbons of energy. Prana. Pure prana and we’re all a part of it.

Breath poem

Posted on by
Reply

Wilmington NC Foxglove (carolyn)

every single breath

moist inside

and without time

every single part of every breath

musky the inhalation,

a pause

where is my mind?

the exhalation egregious

sultry or smooth, silken or salty,

another pause – maybe – or not

beginning?

middle?

end?

who taught me to breathe?

this in breath comes faster,

no pause

sighing out breath

was there a first breath?

releasing all that’s past, begin breathing out,

whose heart feels or weeps?

fresh and fecund, begin to breathe in,

where does breath arise?

does wind return?

pause

I have no memory of breathing

what is this air?

this needlesharp inbreath,

this outbreath clogging my throat -

who is breathing?

curled mushroom -cape carteret NC (carolyn)

Do you believe you can?

Posted on by
4

Barefoot College is an amazing story of faith in action. There is the vision of its founder, Bunker Roy, the faith of every single middle-aged student, the confidence of every village the women students come from and return to electrify, and the belief of Barefoot supporters around the globe. If you’d like to know more about them, check out the PBS Religion and Ethics story.

In the Yoga Sutras, Patanjali cites faith in the first book, thread #20. It is linked to spiritual consciousness. Is it possible to have a spiritual consciousness without faith? Well, yes, but it would be very limited, circumscribed by human potentiality.

Nischala Joy Devi offers a contemporary interpretation of Patanjali in her book, The Secret Power of Yoga. She says identification with Supreme Consciousness is enhanced (her interpretation of Patanjali) by “faith, dynamism, intention, reflection, and perception.”

lake erie state park rock in sara's hand

Faith implies a power unseen, and in the Barefoot College case, a power unheard of. It doesn’t usually happen in a day though. Faith is a gift, yes, but it is a grace that can be trained by taking gradually larger steps. It’s often linked to disciplined practice and development of energy. Your asana practice can be greatly influenced by a constant diet of faith. In every pose you attempt, feed yourself a dish of faith, no matter what else is going on. No matter what physical or mental ailments you may be undergoing, sup on faith and your asana will feed you in return.

Not only can faith feed your yogic development, when faith is pointed at social issues, the world changes. Take a look at some of the incredible steps taken by Social Edge bloggers such as Global X, Kiva Chronicles or, Forging Ahead.

Kausthaub Desikachar of the Krishnamacharya Healing Yoga Foundation cites the importance of faith and confidence in healing:

There is a word for faith in Sanskrit that Patanjali uses in the Yoga Sutra-s. The word is “sraddha”. This is a very beautiful word, which comes from the root “dha” – to hold or sustain. The idea behind the word sraddha is that if we have faith, it will sustain us or hold us and not allow us to fall down. Yoga Sutra says that when we have faith, we will have confidence and through this we can achieve anything, even in times of difficulty.

Let’s make a commitment together to foster faith in one another. Ditch the competition. It only brings you down anyway. No one ever wins.

It’s through healing on many levels that we come to abide in our True Nature. Yoga teaches us to heal contemporary as well as ancient wounds. Learning to open ourselves to faith should be an integral part of our yogic development. Knock loudly on that door and watch what blasts through. You may never be the same, nor will I.

Poland door (rkg)

body heart and soul poem

Posted on by
Reply

body heart and soul

 

I could not hope

to touch the sky

with my two arms

(Sappho # 129)

 

 

I descend

the slippery drive

into Panterra—

a green cleft in

earth’s crust—

smitten with the song

of om,

driven by a guttural thirst

to expand,

condense,

invert my vision.

she waves me in

to truth,

I rise from the illusion

of the rickety ride here,

into

the company of others

who lay aside the bare

existence of the world,

to drop as a hungry babe,

sighing release —

the present tense,

joining the melody

of birdsong and

skittering ants on the skylights,

the awesome rising stars and moon

shining feral light

on this little life.

I begin in the plural,

walk to my mat as one

of many energies

theirs—mine—hers,

each of us opening

into breath

the soft heart of prana

singing in our limbs,

we move

breaking old patterns —

the separateness of lives

and then we exhale

into a single vibration.

she guides us

into positions

where we might

feel the flowing

stream —

the one life.

in this place land rises

soft with fern

and berries on

either side of

the yoga shala —

there is the sky,

an expanse of deep glory

above and within

the clay and stone of this earth

calling us to lay

down our ambitions,

and offer ourselves

to the primordial

home – stillness.