My Cousin Paolo

Because of a visit from my cousin (FL to NY), I had a surge of positive emotions and memories spring up, and the happiness he brought became like a peaceful river to sit by and have companionship, understanding and listening, and find appreciation in that togetherness. So it was only natural that I find myself doing something rare these days: going through old photos. The photos in this post are from the beautiful time at my uncle's house sopra Carini, in the Sicilian mountains, the birds singing all around in the morning, when every day I woke up and was lucky to spend with my cousin Paolo. I love Sicily and best of all, I loved sharing it in a new way with Paolo. Sicily became even more dear to me--she is so giving. In looking through these photos, I saw the thread of happiness from a former life come through to find me today.

That summer was different from other visits: I stayed with Paolo at his dad's house and connections to various cousins overlapped and made new intersections. The two of us developed a rationale for having a party for all of our family; and so the Amato family (from nonno's side) and the Randazzo family (from nonna's side) met and celebrated Independence day with us. More than 40 cousins came wearing red, white, and blue. There we were on the rooftop, the sunset turning the mountains around us a rose color as we told stories, laughed, ate, and took pictures into the night.

 

And these photos are other days... so relaxing by the sea and mountains with a full stomach:

Andrea falling asleep on the terrace after a delicious lunch together

Late dinners all together da Totò, lol

Asia loved to eat the mussels

We visited Elena and Totò's awesome family everyday and had lunch at Carlo and Tania's with Linda and the grandchildren and with Andrea's family in their home on the sea. We went to la spiaggia e la discoteca with cousin Alessandra and friends and danced outdoors. I felt elated to be dancing outdoors and discoteche on the water are particularly amazing.

The best was how la piccola Asia fell in love with Paolo.

We were like kids lounging away a mare and enjoying being in famiglia, tracing our roots in the air of our fathers' hometown with our family.

Paolo and I visited the celebrated beaches of San Vito lo Capo with Gisella's family the night before he left and had a great drive with the sunset preparing for his departure the next morning.

 

The adventures were plenty, delightful, and simple: we had gelato in the piazza our fathers grew up in. We saw stray dogs at night as we drove home up the mountain hill--and one time I thought one was getting hurt by another and made Paolo turn around to make sure they were alright. And they were--they were just copulating.

Paolo understood a lot of the Italian our family speaks and I also served as interpreter sometimes, which was fun.

He tried to make me espresso in the morning but it was really not that good and we joked and communicated through it all, and he reminded me of being young with my own brother again.

In all the photos I have of that June and July, I cannot find the sweet one I am looking for. In it I was happily resting my head on his shoulder, so content.

I did find this memorable one. It was taken at the Palermo airport by Totò, when Paolo was leaving Sicily and I was staying on. He had already changed his ticket once to stay an extra couple weeks after I decided to come to Sicily (after touring as faculty on a study abroad in Italy journey with Emory). So now that his extra time was up, I tried to convince Paolo to stay even longer since he is a digital nomad for work and as we were having such a grand time and had been excited concocting the big family party for July 4th. But he was very stoic about his dharma, reasoning in his own mind that he should keep his ticket. At any rate, he was going to leave for home though we all tried to get him to stay. Then, hours before his flight, when I got up to go to the bathroom in the night, he called my name and when I said yea, he said "I'm not going." And I was soooo happy.

So who could fault him the day it was time for him to go? Though we all thoroughly enjoyed teasing him about wanting him to change his ticket just one more time, which only made him smile.

That "Sicily happy" is how happy he made me this past weekend when he last minute decided to come to NY to spend quality time with me in Saratoga and at the Sadhana Center for Yoga and Meditation in Hudson, and it was a lovely weekend with Paolo, amazing teachers, and discussions. We lived another adventure together--and we both realized afterwards just how much we needed the break, the spiritual aspect, and the time together. After a lot of upheaval in my life, he still makes me smile inside like this photo (below right), that he took on the rooftop of me one evening:

In reflecting on all this, I can't help thinking of the wonderful poem that yogi & living inspiration Sondra read, "The Way It Is," by William Stafford.
There’s a thread you follow.
It goes among things that change.
But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.

And I see a beautiful thread in my life thanks to Paolo. My relationship with Paolo, the innocent adventures we shared, the love and appreciation and family tie therein, are like a thread of love and of connection in my heart. I am fortunate enough to have someone like him in my life, a touchstone. During the times when I needed a little patch of love, he was there to sew me up. He flew up from Florida in September '16 to surprise me on the day of my release from Sloan Kettering hospital in the city. He helped push my wheelchair around the Met to see a painting by Georges de la Tour after I got out. He was there because he wanted to be and made me feel so good after my third life-changing surgery, the ileostomy reversal. I hope that I can do that in some way for him too... lol, well not that exactly, but you know what I mean.

With my son/his godson in Saratoga, summer 2016

Sunset in Sarasota, FL, my 40th birthday with my favorite cuz

Ode to Friendship

This post is about a wonderful friendship, as my good friend of several decades had a very special birthday to salute this past weekend.

Carol and I "clicked" for life thirty-five years ago on the kindergarten playground in Lake George, as foretold by the fact we were both wearing bright corduroys and got along in silence as well as blabbing. Little did we imagine that our activities of letter-writing and sticker-trading would evolve over the decades into museum visits and collaborations. So I wanted nothing more than to celebrate Carol and help ring in another year of joy and rain, "bosom buddies" for life.

There were many highlights of the big weekend, one being the three hours+ spent at a table for two at Aldea in the city talking about the past, quirks and everything, marveling over the pastel de natas and falling in love with Portugal through its cuisine.

The birthday girl, pictured with glowing flame and pastel de natas

"You should smell this bread!"

Carol's selection for Saturday afternoon activities began with a ballet class. There was a cute baby girl in a pink track suit sitting on the floor with her mom when we entered, another sign that this was a precious occasion.

James was the instructor that morning at Ballet & Body (on E 65th). He is in an upcoming off-Broadway production of Fiddler on the Roof and his bulging calves reveal millions of tendu in his lifetime. He was a great teacher, and unintentionally funny. We started laughing quietly when we had to trace each letter of the alphabet with our toes extended to the ceiling, his voice calling them out, Aaaaaa, Beeeeee, Ceeeee, enunciating them exaggeratedly. I couldn't stop cracking up as he continued through all the letters of the alphabet and as our pointed toes did all the movements A-Z. (Fortunately, we were lying on our backs and not standing for the whole alphabet.)

Though I had done ballet for 14 years growing up, it had been two decades since I had felt the rhythm of a tendu warmup exercise at the bar on each side with the beautiful sound of the piano (note: not live, which makes Carol sad). I loved hearing words like old friends: dégagé, coupé, fondu, arabesque, possé, glissade, and there was even soutenu and soussou. The muscle memory was there (and very sore later) and memories came back. What energy unfolds within from visiting such an integral part of my early life, I wondered. Carol and I smiled as she mouthed to me to put on my socks and as he said something about firing a pianist (she is a pianist). It was lovely and perfect, and we marked the special occasion by taking pics and increasingly becoming sore as we walked the city afterwards.

Note: the dress code for the weekend: bag lady chic with a soupçon of Punky Brewster. As always, Carol has incredibly fashionable ideas, tinged with humor from the era in which we grew up. 

Tendu with James

Relevé 

It was an awesome class.

From there, a trip to the Morgan library, which involved a fun lunch in the cafe in the glass atrium, the light shining on us, her pink rosé cocktail budding with a huge magenta orchid. Afterwards, my mind was blown by the amazing book collection. I mean amazing: if you are a bibliophile you'd really appreciate the library. The Frankenstein exhibit was interesting to look at and ponder for a moment. This was when museum fatigue set in, just as we needed to head to dinner. Here we are in front of Wall Drawing 552D (Sol Lewitt, color ink wash, December 1987) in the atrium.

 

I personally loved the details on the book bindings in the library, the hearts and little flowers in particular. From the vaulted rooms of Morgan's library came a walk through literary history, all beautifully bound. Everything was overwhelmingly impressive.

The shelves shown on right, above, are all different works written by Voltaire. One can really appreciate how prolific he was!

The moral of this post? 

Friendship helps get the soul out of this feeling:

So, deep gratitude and heart to this lady, Carol, for all the wonderful, inspiring things she has shared and given to me over the years. I can't wait for Paris with you!

To Carol, all love, flowers, and laughs

Not only do Carol and I look forward to fun together, but for me, she is one of the most caring friends. She is the one who was experiencing the emotions before my colectomy two years ago, and the one who waited with my mom the eight hours of the surgery until she could see me come out of it. She was the one who brought me Patsy's pizza when it was time to try solid foods a week later. She told my sister to not tell me the news flash they had just seen on their phones, Prince had just died. She was there to walk with me and the IV pole on the third day--"so slow that it was like [we were] walking backwards." She painted with me in the recreation center and read a magazine while I participated in a makeup for cancer patients session. She brought me a Hello Kitty balloon. She and my sister videoed the PT showing me how to change my ostomy bag, so that I could remember how to do it at home. She walked many laps with me around the bland fourteenth floor hall, some photos of New York City and some other patients to see: She walked with me to help me recuperate. There are many ways that she was integral to my recovery, and to my life.

Merci beaucoup CAM,
xo

A Thought on Leonard Cohen

THE CORRECT ATTITUDE

Except for a couple of hours
in the morning
which I passed in the company
of a sage
I stayed in bed
without food
only a few mouthfuls of water
"You are a fine-looking old man"
I said to myself in the mirror
"And what is more
you have the correct attitude
You don't care if it ends
or if it goes on
And as for the women
and the music
there will be plenty of that
in Paradise"
Then I went to the Mosque
of Memory
to express my gratitude


Leonard Cohen, The Book of Longing (2006)




WORK IN PROGRESS

he's going to get sick
and die alone

he is the main character
in my little story called

The House of Prayer


Leonard Cohen, The Book of Longing (2006)

Leonard Cohen must have listened to a lot of silences to write verses like these, and to write songs like If It Be Your Will, Suzanne, Take This Waltz. Silences in retreat with Roshi, silences in the Mediterranean island or in the busy streets of a city, silences within himself, and those without.
He took over a year to work on just one verse.
Everything imbued and hued with silence. 

July schedule

Breath and movement help open up space within the body.

Let that space awaken you.

Yoga for those in the Saratoga Springs area:

Bring your own mat (BYOM)

Suggested donation $10

Devoting Oneself

Ganesha, a.k.a Ganapati, Vinâyaka, Ekadanta

How do you know when you're imposing your aversion to suffering onto your decisions? And how do you know when you are actually making the right sacrifice? What if we believe we need to be humble, and do not fight for something that in fact we should fight for? What if, in believing we are making a great sacrifice, we are only running from a bad experience we had in the past? What if we sacrifice the very thing we were given to have, in the name of giving up something for God? In other words, what if our desire for our own pure and perfected kind of spiritual path, in fact, becomes an attachment that obfuscates the beauty and idiosyncratic quality of our life or path of devotion? If we are called to give up attachment to all desires, then at some point are we called to give up our conceptualizing or conception of our spiritual path?

Modern rendition of Ganesh

I learned from recent lectures on the Gita that we do best when we are not attached to our desires. We cause suffering when we become consumed with a specific outcome, especially to ourselves. This is easy to grasp even in just watching a blockbuster movie with a semi-critical eye: We see characters suffer with a desire they have and are unable to obtain, whether business or personal. Usually, the American formula is to deliver the desire at the end of the movie rather than to see the protagonist come to terms with existence, reality, and the difference between material and spiritual gain - that would be truly anti-climactic for audiences and our media culture does not often invite people to reflect. In a decent film, we may see the protagonist's perspective shift as he or she opens the self to new ways of thinking about what was originally desired. Most often, the protagonist achieves his or her goal and any suffering they had at the beginning or middle of the film only helped them to rise above and make that desire real: Thus, the happy ending American audiences have come to expect. But life is not a film or a formula. I am not Sandra and you are not Danny. I am not Thelma and you are not Louise.

Artwork from the film, Animals and the Buddha

So, perhaps it is hard to know if we may be imposing something as our duty or the right thing to do when in fact we could simply be running from an aversion we have or reacting to a deep-seated fear. We are human after all, and can oscillate from being horribly flawed and wondrously inspiring, sometimes at the same time (thus our pull to the tragic hero). In our best bet and effort, we can devote ourselves to a spiritual path, a continual committing of self to. We have more ethical guidelines, insight, and inspiration if we read ancient wisdom texts, but in the personal details of our lives, we can also get quite confused regarding grey areas. Individuals strive to develop a sense of individual duty (dharma) in this life in order to find fulfillment and create meaning. Yet, inevitably, life and the path of devotion will grant us new experiences, new questions, new quandaries/adventures, and there will be times when applying what we already know about moral/ethical issues to problem resolution is not clear or helpful enough, as in fact, no divine set of instructions has been provided for this, your particular situation or mine. Just as the influences of genetics is a vast and indecipherable sea of mutual influences that a program cannot account for as each individual is so uniquely different from another, so we as individuals come with all these samskaras - perspectives, habits, genes, environmental factors, ways of thinking, personal history, family, conceptions of who we are etc. What works for one may not work for another. Surrendering the self in the uniqueness of the self, humbly, respectfully, knowing we do not have it figured out may be the best we can do to steer the boat in the dark or in the fog.

   Chao-Chou: What is the Way?
   Nan-Chüan: It is our everyday mind
   Chao-Chou: Is it necessary to realize it?
   Nan-Chüan: To intend to realize the Way is opposed to the Way
   Chao-Chou: Without intending, how can you know whether it is the Way?
   Nan-Chüan: The Way does not depend on what you know or do not know. If you know it, your knowledge is just speculative ideas. If you don't, your ignorance is like the inanimate. When you have no doubts, the unlimited universe will open in front of you, and no discrimination is possible.

This dialogue from Thick Nhat Hanh's Zen Keys (1973) exemplifies the obstacles that can be created by conceptualizing or forming conceptions of our spiritual path. What I find interesting in this section is the concept of upaya-jñana, what Buddhism calls the Wisdom of the Skillful Ways, and how a good Zen master will create and employ varied methods to help individuals enter the world of awakening for different personalities and different occasions. Buddhism speaks of the 84,000 Dharma gates to enter into reality, and will not describe reality, for it has to be experienced, and in order for any skillful ways or means of the Zen teacher to be effective in helping an individual to enter awakening, "they must fulfill the real needs and particular mentalities of those they seek to guide" (52). I like this, for even though we are not the mind body, we still need the mind body to help us discover who we are (see the Gita or Yoga Sutras for a discussion of the atman) - and thus addressing who we are as a particular makeup of mind body is truly the best way to get us in the direction we are needing to go. Perhaps this is why we resonate with some people or teachers, and not with others.

Perhaps we can say that, owing to our individuality, we ultimately create ourselves in the grey areas: We can open to grey areas as learning, or we can close them off in aversion, and we certainly can deliberate and go back and forth between the two poles. As Viktor Frankl would say, it is up to us to create meaning. Perhaps more important for the bhakta tradition, and this is just my thought, is that we can follow a leading, a voice in the silence, and where there is none, we can concern ourselves with the how rather than the what: we can create ourselves in the grey areas as a humble offering, something that may be sweet because of our intention, even if we are unsure of the footsteps.  Perhaps the wiser decision is to choose the path that makes you have to trust more. New ground is good ground when you are moving in faith.

Bhagavad Gita 
Krishna & Arjuna on the battlefield

We can learn a lot in this regard from the Bhagavad Gita. As we find in the Gita, Arjuna has conflicting duties or dharma. The Gita was sung 5,000 years ago, and is situated within the great Hindu warrior epic, the Mahabharata. The setting for the Gita is the battlefield where two sets of cousins, the Kauravas (not so nice) and the Pandavas (mostly nice), must duke it out. On the one hand, the Pandava prince Arjuna is in the midst of a real crisis: his dharma would tell him to in no way kill his guru and his grandfather (who are aligned with the Kauravas on the field of battle), whereas dharma is also telling Arjuna to pick up the bow and fight. His heart is moved in seeing the men he always respected, and falters to the point that he lets the bow drop, and tells his charioteer, who happens to be Krishna, that he will not fight. Is it courageous of him to surrender his warrior duty and sacrifice justice for his people so as to not kill his grandfather and guru? His heart would tell him so, but Krishna will give him a greater perspective. And so, this is the moment when the Gita starts; with the dilemma of conflicting duties or dharma. The questions Arjuna asks are profuse, riddled as he is with doubt about the right course of action, even though Krishna is very clear and convincing as he appeals to Arjuna through warrior-like thought and then philosophical (and eventually bhakta) thought. In fact, the text can be quite repetitive with Arjuna's languishing, but this is the textual opportunity for Krishna to teach us that we should act without attachment to the fruits of actions. (The text is so rich, and offers so much insight on existence, action, desires, etc.). Another important aspect that emerges from the Gita is that, while for some people going off and meditating and doing yoga in the forest until the end of life is good, not everyone can be a forest-dweller yogi. In the Gita, we learn that yoga can also be done in the everyday world as the yoga of action (karma yoga).

19th century manuscript of the Bhagavad Gita

In conclusion, devoting oneself seems an appropriate title for this post. Devoting oneself may very well involve repeated, progressive, ever-evolving sets of decisions. All this in the hopes of arriving nowhere, for life is constantly unfolding, as is our being and our sense of relation to the Supreme Being. Ancient wisdom texts offer stepping stones for your feet, but how you take the steps with your whole self is up to your unique self and experience. It is reassuring, however, that there is a set of efforts, work, that one can consciously undertake in the yogic tradition. And while this begins with tapas, the fire of discipline, it can become so sweet that you cannot bear to not engage in reading the tales, saying the names, meditating, redirecting, loving, opening yourself to the mystery, the beauty, the fire. We are a being, but we are a being in relation to. And this is a lifelong discovery to manage and give space to.

Bhagavad Gita 
Krishna & Arjuna on the battlefield

Remembering our unique goal in life is a journey, an art, and it is the way you choose to give your life back. In some regards, we have very little control over our lives. We cannot control or even call to mind where we were before we arrived here in this life. We cannot control even our own emotions sometimes. But we can learn from deeper study of the yogic tradition in the Gita or the sutras to observe the mind, emotions, and thoughts (all things of the material world or prakrti) rather than to identify with them. Observe rather than identify, open rather than close, let yourself feel, let yourself let go, see all things as being for the best, wishing love to all, and releasing the past to the past. Releasing what no longer serves you. While many people accumulate and amass things, imagine if we opened ourselves up by letting go and creating space instead. This goes for bitterness, unforgiveness, fear, etc. as well as possessions - we know these can clog our minds and hearts. And so, what do we actually have or possess? This is a question we may face at the end of our life. For me, I hope the answer will be: a sense of gratitude, in love. We can choose to address that question and cultivate that graceful flow of gratitude and love now. 

Our minds need so much feeding and cultivating. One's individual sadhana or shastra can be a sincere way of beginning to approach and surrender further to the love of the divine. If you are a bhakta, then the ultimate goal is communion with your Beloved (Ishvara, whatever you choose to call the God of your heart) in all things, and in all ways.

Life is a landscape with so many deep ravines and high peaks and serendipitous paths that we can't imagine. It has been interesting to stop and marvel along the path, and it is good if we stop to examine and reset the intention of our hearts.

In deep appreciation of the lectures and teachings presented by Professor of Hindu Religions at Rutgers University, Dr. Edwin Bryant, in his lectures on the Bhagavad Gita at the Yoga Mandali studio in Saratoga Springs, NY, January 2018.

Frida Kahlo's diary and the Art of Rebuilding

Perhaps there is more insight available to us if we trust our mind-heart-hand connection and express ourselves on a page with colors. 

Consider an example of amazing emotional texture and quality from Frida Kahlo's journal:

Pages from the published diary of Frida Kahlo

I recently started keeping a notebook and drawing in it. The lines aren't just for words, I realized. One can draw on top of them and doodle in the margins. Maybe drawing opens up what words cannot say, nestled as dreams are in the imagination.

"Untitled"
gel ink on lined paper
2018

Keeping this journal with these drawings has become a hopeful, comforting anchor as I go through life's losses and stresses. The title alone of Lucia Capacchione's book was an inspiring impetus: The Picture of Health: Healing Your Life with Art. And then the drawings, phrases, thoughts Frida Kahlo colored onto paper in The Diary of Frida Kahlo: An Intimate Self-Portrait were liquid inspiration.

Page of a dispersed manuscript of the Bhagavata Purana,
(Collection at The Met)

In order to be inspired to divine love and perhaps measure how clearly we see, we can enhance our yoga practice with a deep study of wisdom texts. I have been reading the Bhagavata Purana, translated by Edwin Bryant. I also found some interesting books about yoga--asana and pranayama--at the library. Here is a quote that has stayed with me from The Yoga of Breath by Richard Rosen:

Asana is an unusual position that, like unusual breathing, introduces a novel element into our habitual ways of doing - of sitting, standing, moving - and so clarifies these habits in our awareness. This also reverses the wandering (vgutthana, swerving from right course) and turns it toward the self. All yoga practice is like this: it keeps us immersed in and delighted by the process of transformation, which we recognize is accomplished both through our own efforts and through our acquiescence to a higher power. 

Our own efforts + our bowing to a higher power

Then, another insight from Rosen, as he refers to Patanjali's verses on yoga in the Yoga Sutras. (The author begins with a translation of these three verses).

'The posture [should be] steady and comfortable [sthira-sukha]. [It is accompanied] by the relaxation of tension and the coinciding with the infinite [consciousness-space]. Thence [results] unassailability by the pairs-of-opposites.' Each posture is a skillful balancing act between making happen and letting happen. This recalls the two great wings of classical yoga, exertion (abhyasa which has the same root verb as asana) and surrender or dispassion (vairagya). When these two elements are in harmony in asana, the yogi relaxes or loosens (sithila) all physical and psychological tension; consequently the normally perceived boundaries of the body map dissolve, and consciousness begins to coincide (samapatti) with the consciousness that pervades all space, what Patanjali calls the infinite or endless (ananta).

To add to this quote, a parenthetical comment about the Yoga Sutras: As I understood from Bryant's intro to the Bhagavata Purana, it is helpful to know that Patanjali's yoga is concerned with self-realization, whereas the object and goal of bhakti yoga is of a devotional (and thus sweeter) kind.

A dear man has passed.
Dear P.S., much love and joy to you now. Enjoy your great Western book
and see you...

Om shanti