Merci beaucoup

Regarding Tallahassee

In my last post, I found myself tackling an overwhelming issue that many of us deal with at a conscious or subconscious level--processing the overwhelming nature of violence in the headlines. I was kind of wondering why I was writing such a post. Although horrifying news is something I often grapple with, I wasn't quite sure why I was writing about such a hugely vast (not to mention relatively upsetting) topic. Minutes after I hit the publish button, I saw the news on my computer that there was a shooting in a yoga studio in Tallahassee, FL. This struck home for many reasons: I had just written on the topic, thinking of the fear of violence far off coming closer to home as we see in the news, and then I see in the headlines an act of senseless violence against a yoga community in a town that I grew up in as my second home. It was a bit surreal and uncanny. My sisters and I all felt it and the text messages in our group thread began.

Our father's restaurant was in Tallahassee from the 80s up through 2004 or so. My dad had several restaurants and many friends in the community. He was the Italian restaurant of Tallahassee, and made his third and fourth World's Largest Pizza just outside the capitol. Here is a commercial featuring my father and his restaurant to give you a sense of his legacy and love for Tallahassee. I also just found a recent article (from 2014) from the Tallahassee Democrat, (written years after my father left Tallahassee) describing the history surrounding the making of the World's Largest Pizza and his reputation as a bon vivant.

There are funny commercials that I have on video cassette: one of him in a tuxedo running from one restaurant (on Tharpe street) to his other restaurant (on W. Tennessee Street) to the sound of Vivaldi as he balanced a straw bottle of Chianti on a server's tray and red linen. You can see why many people I would meet in Tally admired the character my father was--not to mention his genuine hospitality and the delicious "celebrity pastas." When there was the question surrounding the re-election of George W. Bush, international reporters were at our restaurant. Many respected FSU professors and coaches, as well as senators, would eat there. FSU was also my brother's and my alma mater. It was--and still is--a peaceful, slow, resilient community. 

So, given this family history, given the swaying Spanish moss, sturdy oaks, and canopy roads of this southern town (Tallahassee is "more southern Georgia than Florida" as they say) and given the peacefulness of residing in such a town, it was startling to see Tallahassee associated with such a horrifying tragedy. Of course, the whole point is that these things can happen anywhere.

Yet what also struck me was something my older sister, Nancy, shared--it was a quote from Mr. Rogers, who in fact was quoting his own mother: In any tragedy, you can "look for the helpers." My sister followed this with a blurb about a man who, in his bare feet, charged the shooter and saved other lives that morning. The helpers. They rise up. As I was saying in my last post, people take courage when they have to. 

Soon after the news broke, sixty people gathered in front of the capitol to do yoga in honor of the doctor / owner of the yoga studio who was killed, as well as the young woman too. The beauty of the community practice does not restore the lives of those who were lost, not by any stretch of the imagination. And yet the photo is very poignant given the context, as they take their bodies and hearts to the mat on the pavement, honoring the women whose lives were taken. Here is the incredibly touching photo my sister found in the news:

Tallahassee, FL. November 3, 2018

Two beautiful souls are carrying on their voyage beyond Tallahassee. May they find peace.

"Put flowers in the mud baby"

~U2

Regarding the Violence of the World

Headlines are constantly being made and yet how are we processing the violence we read about? It seems to me that if we could understand even just one act of violence, whether against an animal, a child, a woman, a man, or a sacred site, then we would have understood the world and age we live in. Whether the genocides and terror in Cambodia, Europe, or Rwanda, whether terror against intellectuals, an ethnic group, or indigenous peoples, whether on a small or massive scale, acts of violence are overwhelming to deal with in their aftermath, let alone during the enduring trauma. Lives were taken and then there are those who survived--those who are left to go on, make meaning, uphold a memorial.

We live in a digital age where individuals' stories can be made much more available. Amongst the noise and babble of this world, stories of grit are getting amplified with technology and social media and they rise up from the concrete, from the ashes, from the dirt. One such enabler is Humans of NY, a photoblog of street portraits and individual interviews started in 2010 by Brandon Stanton. Humans of NY recently went to Kigali, Rwanda and the stories that emerged have an effect. This post is about grappling with that effect.

People take courage when they have to... The was the bare bones struggle for survival that the 400 children and family members hiding in the ceiling of a church endured for weeks on end. There, children heard six young men being tortured to death all night outside the church by killers who were demanding to know where the other Tutsis were hiding. The young men died in silence. Yet the powerful story of their sacrifice and bravery is anything but silent--if we have the means to listen. Such stories reflect a shared humanity that we can empathize with (in particular cases) through imagination and perhaps even through our own samskaras. Survivors of abuse, cancer, impoverishment or violence have much to share with the world about human dignity--as well as the paradoxes of survivorship. And then there are the living mute, whose story may reach no one or only the few who see and understand their living conditions. Then there is the power of photography--and yet, one must be careful to never exploit the suffering of others or to assume to speak for them.

So what's the purpose of taking in stories and photos of those who suffer? Perspective. Empathy, prayer, thoughtfulness. Kindness. Seeing how we can live responsibly and seek to give in the hope that the world may be filled with more of the light that we see in those who are made strong by trials.

And as anyone who has given knows, it is more about receiving than giving. I remember being 21 years old and going to Belgium to help at refugee centers there via a missionary church. Never was it more apparent that I had nothing to give. I wanted God to "use me" and yet all I could really do was appreciate the exchange of hearts that occurred in my time spent listening and smiling with kids and people from the Philippines, Rwanda, Armenia, Bosnia, the Congo.... How loving they were, detained in a holding place. I didn't understand the severity of their lives--or how to help--but I felt love.

From that experience though, I learned that the idea of giving to others is where we can still have it wrong. Helping others has nothing to do with the self or ego; it has everything to do with complete and utter humility. Realizing you are the blind one.

New sanctuary for rare black rhinos in N Kenya.
"The reality is that in the conservation world
we live in crisis," says Batian Craig

Here in the US, it seems most of our ills are caused by mental and spiritual illness, borne from boredom (tamas), excessive medical prescriptions for anti-depressants (over 100 million prescribed each year--see this incredible TED talk by Helen Fisher regarding this scary fact and more broadly, how it could correlate with love), the privileging of white males (the ones who, when disappointed, unload rounds on school grounds), as well as rajasic materialism and greed, not to mention a puritanical heritage that has become deeply perverted. There is a lack of good role models--in fact on TV and in mainstream culture we have quite the opposite. And while these impoverished cultural values extend to other places, there are yet areas of the world where luxury and materialism is not an option and where the focus is more on the family and doing what one needs to do to get by. There too there are hard choices. (I would contend that there is more innocence in other areas of the world, just as there are more political and social injustices there too.)

As a parent it is easy to fear what the world will look like in the coming years. Introspection regarding the state of the world may help us at the very least in understanding the need to teach our children that there are way more important things than their little bubble, and that the best we can do with our achievements, talents and resources is to have the right perspective on things--via values of family, education and faith-- and to be prepared and help others. These are perhaps lofty notions, but they are goals that will hopefully be made real by a touch of divine grace and direction.

As I draft this post, Ray Charles is playing on the record player and my son is dancing and skipping around and grabbing my legs. May love be a light to all of our feet. What we need is more play, more dance, more community, and more hands held. Less distraction too.

Our destiny is wrapped up in the human heart.

In closing, a poem that is replete with alchemy--as is the spiritual path or process. From the personal to the macro, our today is in need of nothing short of this kind of magic:

"Uncaged Love"

Free the bird of your love

from the iron cage of selfishness

and it will fly high into the open sky.

Yes, when love escapes the prison,

the needy thief becomes a generous donor,

giving precious gifts without demanding returns.

Pure, vast, jubilant,

it flies beyond the limits – even of this sky, 

suddenly changing from a sparrow to an eagle. 

Until it lands at the feet of the Beloved 

where it is instructed in a new art: 

to dive deep into the ocean of divine ecstasy. 

And when the mighty bird of your love 

returns from that sphere, 

it is no longer brown but dazzling golden. 

It loves like the sun – unconditional, 

giving its nourishing rays to all 

without ever asking for something in return, 

and never becoming tired or exhausted. 

~Sacinandana Swami

A baby Krishna cries for his mom

Rumi and the Albatross

The following poem is by 13th century Persian poet Rumi. Nature is so inspiring, as is the spark of life in Rumi's poetry. This poem is particularly poignant, and the last line reminds me of a wildlife video focusing on the albatross (found below). The lesson of a spiritual flight therein is so beautiful.

Seeker, when you feel your soul contracting

know it is for your own good

allow not your heart to burn with grief.

In times of expansion you spend

and this expenditure requires

an income of painful soul searching.

If it was always summer, the roots would burn

and the gardens would never become green.

Winter seems bitter but it is also kind.

When contraction comes, my friend, 

behold the expansion within

be cheerful, do not complain.

The eyes of a child are fixed on the wants of now

while the eyes of the wise see to the end.

When you close your mouth

another one will open, seeking nourishment

in the mysteries of Spirit.

The sugar of sensual joy

is the fruit of the garden of sorrow

this joy is the wound, the sorrow is the plaster.

Learn to embrace sorrow

look straight at its face and joy will reappear.

All action sways between contraction and expansion

both as important as the opening and closing

of the wings of a bird in flight.

~Rumi

The verse on the importance of the opening and closing of the wings of a bird in flight reminds me of the majestic albatross, and a particularly fantastic video about their flights. This beautiful National Geographic video is inspiring for human life, as these creatures are supremely dedicated, graceful, and demonstrate a fascinating way of life through their evolution. There is much to say on the flight of the albatross, how it flies zig zagging strategically and gains kinetic energy for further momentum, and then turns into the wind to gain altitude, "so it can fly for miles and miles and miles without ever needing to flap its wings." This is called dynamic soaring.

As Nat Geo filmmaker, Bertie Gregory, says of the wandering albatross, they are the "biggest bird on the planet" and he continues enthusiastically, "Imagine living life like that! you know, flying thousands of thousands of miles all by yourself. I mean, that said, some of them are coming back to the island to breed at the moment. And that's when they reveal a totally different side of their personalities!"

Each wing is bigger than your average person, and their wing span is eleven feet. They are super graceful in the air, and then have crash landings. Seems like a creature most people could identify with (dukham can be comical at times--when looking back). Fascinating video and a great reminder of the importance of protecting wild places.

A particularly thrilling moment occurs at 4:20 when the timing works out perfectly with what Gregory is saying and the male does the sky-calling--almost as if on cue!

From "A" Dictionary of the Pali language 

Perspectives

"Effortless Worship"

suniyai saba ki kahiye na kachu rahiyai imi bhava bagara main

kariyai brata nema sacai liye jina tain tariyai mana-sagara main

miliyai saba so durabhava bina rahiye satasanta ujagara main

rasakhani gubindahin yaun bhajiyai jimi nagari ko cita gagara main

Listen to everyone, but don’t say a word. In this manner, remain in the world.

Perform your vows and practices with sincerity—they will carry you across the mind’s ocean.

Greet all without negativity, and remain in the illumination of devotional association.

Rasakhan says, "Worship Govinda the way a village woman balances a water jug upon her head—with effortless concentration."

~Rasakahn

Using the example of babies suckling their mother's breast (33.4) to show that all beings obtain livelihood from what they do, Draupadi says: "All beings know exertion, Bharata, and visibly (pratyaksam), having the world as witness (lokasaksikam), they eat the fruit of their actions (phalam asnanti karmanam). I see that creatures live off their own total effort (swam samutthanam)--even the Placer and Ordainer, as does this crane in the water" (33.6-7) 

And more perspective, not pretty so much as beautiful and profound. 

A tear-inducing story and song of grace and not giving up--despite the odds:

"The Formality of a Punch Line"

Listen, my friend! Don’t enter that narrow path where Krishna plays His flute.
If you go there and see Him, Krishna will capture your soul
and send you home with a shattered heart.
Rasakhan offers you some sound advice:
"Krishna has ensnared all of Vraja with His lyrical melodies.
Step carefully, and do not slip! His net is cast in all directions."
~Rasakhan

When we find ourselves facing an existential crisis, what resources or measures do we call upon? How do we validate our experience and the contrast between thought life and reality? How do we separate ignorance from correct perception, when one is not sure which is which? And ultimately, how does one transcend one's own (temporary) block or limitation so that the emphasis is not on the finite, but on the infinite?

I have a tendency to want to see la vie en rose. Thus the need to anchor my thought life to reality is something that is pertinent. And I suppose it is normal to have obstacles to face in order to reach spiritual desires and goals. Uncertainty arises because one or more of the three ways of gaining correct knowledge (pramana)--knowledge, experience, and validation---may be lacking. The practicing yogi and seeker would like all three of these to be in harmony: Then one can know that one knows. What sweet comfort that would be! And so what does one do in the meantime? How do we pursue experience, validation, and knowledge? 

We all are seeking something. If we are doing this sincerely, then it is to be expected that there is a process involved, which in most circumstances requires patience. So the question of in the meantime often applies to situations that await results. Example: One wants to live a bhakti-filled life. One perceives obstacles. One goes crazy trying to eradicate all obstacles. One realized one's dependency or limitation in the material world. One cannot see the future. One faces separation when one would wish for union. What does one do? If you read about bhakti yoga, then you may come across the notion that separation is where bhakti is most intense, so perhaps this is where we learn.

What do you do when your standard for knowledge is perception and visible evidence? The answer may well be in non-attachment and practice.

So, after a nod from a teacher to the klishtas and aklishtas, I began looking at Patanjali's Yoga Sutras in order to sort through the flood of thoughts that sometimes obscure my perspective at a decision-making juncture.

The suggestion I found there is that the best way to frame this question of what to do in the meantime is to look at the ways in which our thought patterns, which are multifarious, boil down to five kinds of thinking: correct thinking; wrong thinking; imagination; deep sleep; memory. This can be daunting at first, if one is unsure of which is which, and what is true, on a personal basis.

Sutra 1.2 states that yoga is the nirodhah (stilling) of the thought patterns of the mind field. With this stilling, the seer or true self, abides in its own nature. What joy would it be to still one's thoughts! This can be attained with practice, tapas (the fire of discipline), concentration, and other practices of yoga. 

Patanjali proposes that thoughts that interfere with self-realization are either colored (klishta), that is, not useful, painful, impure, troubled, negative, vice, leading us away from enlightenment and resulting in bondage -- or they are uncolored (aklishta) and thus useful, not painful, not afflicted, pure, not troubled, positive, virtue, leading us towards enlightenment, resulting in true freedom. Here, it says that thought patterns are "the colorings of our samskaras, the deep impressions that drive our karma or actions." So, observing a thought and deciphering if it is colored or uncolored is a useful practice. After all, if thoughts are the makeup of our actions and karma, we would do well to pay attention to their degree of distortion and let them run clear. From that practice of observation, decisions may better follow.

To detangle ourselves from our identification with mental thoughts, which are either klishta or aklishta, sounds very easy to say and I wonder how hard it is to do--especially when all areas of life seem to be bound up into one giant ball. But again, the next step is to observe whether our thoughts are colored or uncolored, useful or not useful, and it is said that this can be done as one goes about one's day. Once again, training the mind and its habits comes down to awareness and practice. And perhaps with this practice and the stages that ensue, we can reduce the coloring of thoughts that no longer serve us. So then, the various categories of life begin to become more and more transparent, matter of fact, correctly prioritized, and purified:

This means observing your fear of spiders, your desire for a martini or even for a kiss, your attachment to your health or home, and not letting those impulses rule you. That's the scent of freedom attracting you. Letting the colored thought patterns run clear is like removing the veil over the beauty of the deepest inner reality. And on another reassuring note: "This does not mean that one becomes inert or robot-like, without enjoying life and the world. Rather, it means that the coloring is not dragging us around by our senses, either externally or internally" (source).

To commit to this purification, one should cultivate the following efforts, according to Sutra 1.20:

The sutra reads: Others follow a five-fold systemic path of 1) faithful certainty in the path 2) directing energy towards the practices 3) repeated memory of the path and the process of stilling the mind 4) training in deep concentration, and 5) the pursuit of real knowledge, by which higher samadhi (asamprajnata samadhi) is attained. 

So to return to my seemingly thwarted spiritual life and material life indecision and discontent and seeking my path, i.e. my mid-life crisis, I wonder: What do we do when we want to program our spiritual path, but the way of doing so in the real world seems concealed? What do we do when we need more shraddha and virya in making a decision--now--so that we may commit the energy to go there? And what do we do with the silence that follows self-inquiry, prayer, japa (all our meager efforts to pursue higher wisdom) as we wait for some bhakti signpost?

In any dilemma, the ability to simply forego current limitations would be lovely, and indeed, certain frames of mind call for a radical departure from forms of limitation. One wants to set sail, wants to be a forest-dweller, wants to cultivate peace in a certain setting, wants validation, experience, knowledge--and if one can find the signpost and the means, then this is wondrous--but in instances of limitation that come from the world and karma and dependency on certain factors, real or imagined, I would say that wants wanting wants can create havoc. One can only hope the quest is not over if a false step were to be made. Spiritual pursuit requires also material support, dharma, and responsibility. With desires framed by those that are more pure in nature, one can still become flustered by living in the world without a highly individualized manual. Or perhaps this again is the working out of karma by grace, which requires time... and more practice.

In closing, a dream last night: I was waiting for Steve Martin to arrive to an engagement party I was attending by a little pond. It was an odd place, fenced in, quiet, and the group of ladies, one of whom was getting engaged, was telling me about a nearby grocery store. I was suggesting a sign be placed there to let others know of this resource, since there were no indicators as to the function of the place. They liked that thought. Then I was informed we were waiting for an event at this party: Steve Martin was coming to give a blessing to the engagement, and I thought this odd. He was to arrive on a tour bus. Why this formality just to bless an engagement, I wondered? Having no clue as to the meaning of this dream in the morning, I googled Steve Martin, and thanks to the wealth of fun reads on Wikipedia, I found the following passages (which, if nothing else, tickled my vritti):

Inspired by his philosophy classes, Martin considered becoming a professor instead of an actor-comedian. His time at college changed his life.
“It changed what I believe and what I think about everything. I majored in philosophy. Something about non-sequiturs appealed to me. In philosophy, I started studying logic, and they were talking about cause and effect, and you start to realize, 'Hey, there is no cause and effect! There is no logic! There is no anything!' Then it gets real easy to write this stuff because all you have to do is twist everything hard—you twist the punch line, you twist the non-sequitur so hard away from the things that set it up.”

Martin recalls reading a treatise on comedy that led him to think:
“What if there were no punch lines? What if there were no indicators? What if I created tension and never released it? What if I headed for a climax, but all I delivered was an anticlimax? What would the audience do with all that tension? Theoretically, it would have to come out sometime. But if I kept denying them the formality of a punch line, the audience would eventually pick their own place to laugh, essentially out of desperation.”

Martin periodically spoofed his philosophy studies in his 1970s stand-up act, comparing philosophy with studying geology: “If you're studying geology, which is all facts, as soon as you get out of school you forget it all, but philosophy you remember just enough to screw you up for the rest of your life."

Martin's first TV appearance was on The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour in 1968. He says:
“[I] appeared on The Virginia Graham Show, circa 1970. I looked grotesque. I had a hairdo like a helmet, which I blow-dried to a puffy bouffant, for reasons I no longer understand. I wore a frock coat and a silk shirt, and my delivery was mannered, slow and self-aware. I had absolutely no authority. After reviewing the show, I was depressed for a week."

I wonder if an inner--or outer--light will come on to light my path on this journey? The key is to laugh at oneself if one can. I will close with an image of a yoga pose back in August, a photo I thought to call L'Affito del sole--after a phrase from a Jovanotti song, Mi fido di te.