Wisom from the Mat

Today my yoga teacher said, "Your mind is like a pet; you have to train it."

An interesting thought, though I doubt I would have ever put it quite like that. Yet, how true it is that we have to train our minds. Certainly mindfulness can be learned.

When I reflect back on the 8-9 years now that I've been practicing yoga, I think of how hard it was for me in the first few years of my practice to clear my mind during shavasana. My experience was that by trying too hard I often judged myself for not being "successful" in the task. Now I can clear my mind more readily, and I've learned that it is a function of training, of developing detachment, of not moving to a place of judgment when thoughts come in, but rather watching them come and joy with ease.

Kirtan

This evening I had the good fortune of, upon following intuition into a bookstore near my house (a lovely bookstore called Gateways, which is of a spiritual bent), being told of a concert there later in the evening. I came back at the appropriate hour, not having any idea what I was getting myself into. I then spent the next 1.5 hours participating whole-heartedly in my first Kirtan experience. Kirtan, which apparently is Sanskirt for "to repeat", is a form of call and response singing that involves singing mantras and hymns.

What a wonderful introduction to more Hindi! I think this must be the best way to learn! - to sing in call and response.

The musician who led the evening was a White man named Gishi (www.gishimusic.com). He had an incredible voice. He did a wonderful job of introducing each piece, explaining the meaning of some of the Sanskirt words. There are many things I loved about the evening. Notice that I'm not saying concert. This is because this music was so all inclusive that there was really little distinction between him and the audience. The audience did not applaud, which was a new experience for me, and one that I quite enjoyed. I found that this silence after each song really allowed its weight to sink in and for the energy created by the music to continue to percolate. I had never really before considered that applause can abruptly cut the mystical experience of music. I was also amazed by the power of the silence at the end of each mantra, especially that precious moment when the singing stopped but the instrumentation continued to linger just a bit longer.

Another thing I loved about Gishi is that he used an eccelctic repetoire of styles to bring the mantras to life. As he said, "the mantras are fine by themselves." They will not loose their power. If putting them to a hip hip beat brings them to life for us, why not? Or if it's jazz, or rock, or a simple flute or harmonium... the power lies in the words and in our ability to embrace them and make them our own.

Fortunately, Gishi lives in Santa Cruz now so there should be ample opportunities to see him. There's one, in fact, tomorrow evening at Downtown Yoga Shala in San Jose at 8pm. 450 S First St., www.downtownyogashala.com

Silence and Speech

In this month of silence, I have find myself acutely more aware of moments of silence -- in car rides, on the telephone, in person with someone. I have felt more comfortable with such moments without even making a conscious effort. I simply have observed the silence, made no judgment over it, yet it has felt so natural in most all the occasions I can recall.

Yet, this evening, a thought struck me. I cannot recall the transitions out of the silence. I write this at mid-month through June, the month some of us have dedicated to reflecting on silence, to prompt myself to be more aware this month not only of silence, but of moments of speech, to appreciate when speech comes, how it flows, and what it feels like to move out of silence...

I'd love to hear others' thoughts on this, too. And now I will return to silence. ;)

From the mat to the world

After a mighty fish posh, with back arched, weight on my forearms and the crown of my head touching ever so gently to the floor, I replaced my spine, shoulders, head, arms and hands on the floor, preparing for shavasana, and there was a moment when I suddenly found myself like something out of a Salvador Dalí painting, in perfect stillness and the silence of my breath, where I became the floorIdidn't even melt into it I simply observed no distinction in level between my back and shoulders or the floor i could not tell where the floor began or stopped around me i simply was, it was, we were and discovered perfect unity with this inanimate object, but not just any, with the very base of the things. And if I can find that oneness for a few moments with the floor beams in yoga class, why not take that to the next level? for a few more minutes, as the instructor's voice becomes one with the ligaments of my legs as she calls our awareness to them, or to the student next to me who is the same as me and has a block that also needs to be put away at the end of class, or as I drive home with a beautiful sunset in front of me, a sky lit with pastel purples and pinks and yes, how I love the beauty of this place, or now as i type and my fingers find their own voice as i close my eyes and the typing simply flows from me, flows itself almost as if of its own accord.
How can i extend this to find unity in everything? each precious moment, thing, is it not a part of me, of God? 'tis.

If you can't say anything nice...

"If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all."

Now there's a good piece of old-fashioned wisdom that seems relevant for for our virtue of the month: silence. I wonder about the origins of this quote and suspect they were initially tied to something in some Holy Writings, though I can't seem to find the original source.

In the Bahái Faith, similar advice is given to refrain from backbiting (speaking ill of someone behind his/her back).
In The Hidden Words, Bahá'u'lláh writes,
"O Son of Man!
Breate not the sins of others so long as thou art thyself a sinner. Shouldst thou transgress this command, accursed wouldst thou be, and to this I bear witness."

Bahá'u'lláh has called his followers to “regard backbiting as grievous error, and keep … aloof from its dominion, inasmuch as backbiting quencheth the light of the heart, and extinguisheth the life of the soul.”

His son, Abdu'l-Bahá, stressed the spiritual impact of backbiting, saying:

“O beloved of the Lord! If any soul speak ill of an absent one, the only result will clearly be this: he will dampen the zeal of the friends and tend to make them indifferent. For backbiting is divisive, it is the leading cause among the friends of a disposition to withdraw. If any individual should speak ill of one who is absent, it is incumbent on his hearers, in a spiritual and friendly manner, to stop him, and say in effect: would this detraction serve any useful purpose? . . . On the contrary, it would make the dust to settle so thickly on the heart that the ears would hear no more, and the eyes would no longer behold the light of truth.”

Much better is it to praise the qualities of others: “If, however, a person setteth about speaking well of another, opening his lips to praise another, he will touch an answering chord in his hearers and they will be stirred up by the breathings of God.” -Abdu'l-Bahá

But if we can't do that, better to say nothing at all.

Trusting in God

After months of not reading the Hidden Words, I was particularly struck this morning by the power of these words of Bahá'u'lláh:

"O Son of Spirit!
There is no peace for thee save by renouncing thyself and turning unto Me; for it behooveth thee to glory in My name, not in thine own; to put thy trust in Me and not in thyself, since I desire to be loved alone and above all that is."

Even if my heart doesn't yet fully trust, what if this were true? On the long plane flight back from Europe on Monday I thought to myself, what if I try to start by living my life by this pretense and then see if it seems true? But, how does one begin when one still doubts?

And then I found some solace in another Hidden Word:
"O Children of the Divine and Invisible Essence!
Ye shall be hindered from loving Me and souls shall be perturbed as they make mention of Me. For minds cannot grasp Me nor hearts contain Me."

Song of the Spirit

"O my friend, listen to the songs of the spirit and treasure them as thine own eyes." -Bahá'u'lláh

(Thanks to K for posting this quote on Facebook)

On Dreams and the Soul

After rediscovering a quote by Mexican contemporary poet Jaime Sabines (see last post), I began to partially remember something I'd heard or read from the Bahá'í Faith related to dreams but couldn't quite place. Thus, I delved into the writings and discovered these two great explanations from Abdu'l-Bahá, wherein he explores the state of dreaming to deepen our understanding of the state of the immortal soul. They more or less say the same thing, though the second is more elaborate.

1.
"But in the world of dreams the soul sees when the eyes are closed. The man is seemingly dead, lies there as dead; the ears do not hear, yet he hears. The body lies there, but he—that is, the soul—travels, sees, observes. All the instruments of the body are inactive, all the functions seemingly useless. Notwithstanding this, there is an immediate and vivid perception by the soul. Exhilaration is experienced. The soul journeys, perceives, senses. It often happens that a man in a state of wakefulness has not been able to accomplish the solution of a problem, and when he goes to sleep, he will reach that solution in a dream. How often it has happened that he has dreamed, even as the prophets have dreamed, of the future; and events which have thus been foreshadowed have come to pass literally. Therefore, we learn that the immortality of the soul, or spirit, is not contingent or dependent upon the so-called immortality of the body, because the body in the quiescent state, in the time of sleep, may be as dead, unconscious, senseless; but the soul, or spirit, is possessed of perceptions, sensations, motion and discovery. Even inspiration and revelation are obtained by it."

-Abdu'l-Bahá, from a talk given in Washington DC in November 1912, The Promulgation of Universal Peace

2.
"The other manifestation of the powers and actions of the spirit is without instruments and organs. For example, in the state of sleep without eyes it sees, without an ear it hears, without a tongue it speaks, without feet it runs. Briefly, these actions are beyond the means of instruments and organs. How often it happens that it sees a dream in the world of sleep, and its signification becomes apparent two years afterwards in corresponding events. In the same way, how many times it happens that a question which one cannot solve in the world of wakefulness, is solved in the world of dreams. In wakefulness the eye sees only for a short distance, but in dreams he who is in the East sees the West: awake he sees the present, in sleep he sees the future. In wakefulness, by means of rapid transit, at the most he can travel only twenty farsakha an hour; in sleep, in the twinkling of an eye, he traverses the East and West. For the spirit travels in two different ways: without means, which is spiritual traveling; and with means, which is material traveling: as birds which fly, and those which are carried.

In the time of sleep this body is as though dead; it does not see nor hear, it does not feel, it has no consciousness, no perception: that is to say, the powers of man have become inactive, but the spirit lives and subsists. Nay, its penetration is increased, its flight is higher, and its intelligence is greater. To consider that after the death of the body the spirit perishes, is like imagining that a bird in a cage will be destroyed if the cage is broken, though the bird has nothing to fear from the destruction of the cage. Our body is like the cage, and the spirit is like the bird. We see that without the cage this bird flies in the world of sleep; therefore if the cage becomes broken, the bird will continue and exist: its feelings will be even more powerful, its perceptions greater, and its happiness increased. In truth, from hell it reaches a paradise of delights, because for the thankful birds there is no paradise greater than freedom from the cage. That is why with utmost joy and happiness the martyrs hasten to the plain of sacrifice.

In wakefulness the eye of man sees at the utmost as far as one hour of distance..."

-Abdu'l-Bahá, Some Answered Questions

Dreams vs. Seeing

Occure que la realidad es superior a los sueños. En vez de pedir "déjame soñar", se debería decir: "déjame mirar".
Juega a vivir.
-Jaime Sabines

which roughly translates to:
It so happens that reality is superior to dreams. Instead of asking "let me dream," one should say: "let me see".
Play to live.
-Jaime Sabines

I used to have this quote as an email signature. What do folks think of it? It sure would be interesting to know more about the spiritual impact of dreams... ;)

I will follow up with another post soon regarding what's said about dreams in the Baha'i writings.

Rediscovering My Love for a Love Poem

From Pablo Neruda's Cien Sonetos de amor (1oo Love Sonnets)

XVII

No te amo como si fueras rosa de sal, topacio I don ’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,
o flecha de claveles que propagan el fuego: or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
te amo como se aman ciertas cosas oscuras, I love you as one loves certain obscure things,
secretamente, entre la sombra y el alma. secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

Te amo como la planta que no florece y lleva I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries
dentro de sí, escondida, la luz de aquellas flores, the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,
y gracias a tu amor vive oscuro en mi cuerpo and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose
el apretado aroma que ascendió de la tierra. from the earth lives dimly in my body.

Te amo sin saber como, ni cuándo, ni de donde, I love you without knowing how, or when, or
from where
te amo directamente sin problemas ni orgullo: I love you directly without problems or pride:
así te amo porque no sé amar de otra manera, I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,

sino así de este modo en que no soy ni eres, except in this form in which I am not nor are you,
tan cerca que tu mano sobre mi pecho es mía, so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,
tan cerca que se cierran tus ojos con mi sueño. so close that your eyes close with my dreams.

[English translation by Mark Eisner 2004, from City Lights' The Essential Neruda]