Yoga

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November 29, 2010

Here’s this week’s Dharma Talk on Verse 40 of the Tao Te Ching. Which comes at just about the halfway point… and at 4 lines, is the shortest of 81 verses. This week’s talk is a kind of free association on the verse. Rather than inspiring parallel teachings, I found myself intrigued by the brevity of the four lines and the significance of the number 4. Of course, I couldn’t talk about “non-being” without bringing in Dhumavati, the Wisdom Goddess personifying the Void.

40.
Return is the movement of the Tao.
Yielding is the way of the Tao.
All things are born of being.
Being is born of non-being.

I tend to hold being as the ground as in “ground of being.”  This verse reminded me of the deeper level, the level that is unfathomable and without bottom, which would be non-being or the so-called Void. While we really need no metaphors to wrestle with these concepts — and truly better to experience the state in chanting and meditation, still, the stories and imagery are so lovely. Here’s a bit from the mythology of Dhumavati quoted in David Frawley’s Tantric Yoga and the Wisdom Goddesses:

Perceived as the Void, as the dissolved form of consciousness, when all beings are dissolved in sleep in the supreme Brahman, having swallowed the entire universe, the seer-poets call her the most glorious and the eldest, Dhumavati….among yogis she becomes the power that destroys all thoughts, indeed Samadhi itself….

Dhumavati is the void, wherein all forms have been dissolved and nothing can any longer be differentiated. Yet this void is not mere darkness. It is a self-illuminating reality free of the ordinary duality of subject and object… As such, Dhumavati is pure, perfect, and full Awareness in which there are no longer any objects. The Void is not merely emptiness but the cessation of the movements of the mind. Dhumavati is thus ultimately silence itself.

Small correction:

In my talk, I inadvertently mixed up the technical names of the Four Levels of Sound.

The Para levels is as I said, deep in the lower depths of being/non-being at around the naval chakra. This is where what we might call the “impulse  of a sound” begins. As the impulse moves towards oral expression, it enters into the Pashyanti level around the heart chakra where it is still not heard but getting closer, then into Madhyama level which is at the throat and finally Vaikari which is the actual physical sound. As the sound channels through the four levels it is influenced by the inner environment. So for instance, the impulse may be an angry response to something someone has said to us. But as it moves through the intermediary levels before Vaikari it may be toned down, refined, recalibrated, or suppressed. This is a big topic we’ll take up in subsequent weeks.

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November 22, 2010

Here’s this week’s Dharma Talk, along with posts of  readings:

39.
In harmony with the Tao,
the sky is clear and spacious,
the earth is solid and full,
all creatures flourish together,
content with the way they are,
endlessly repeating themselves,
and endlessly renewed.

When man interferes with the Tao,
the sky becomes filthy,
the earth becomes depleted,
the equilibrium crumbles,
creatures become extinct.

The Master views the parts with compassion,
because he understands the whole.
His constant practice is humility.
He doesn’t glitter like a jewel
but lets himself be shaped by the Tao,
as rugged and common as a stone.

As I said in my talk, we’ve moved into a section of the Tao Te Ching that seems very much its own. While I’m still able to find parallel teachings, they don’t flow as seamlessly from text to text as we’ve found in earlier verses. I suspect this has something to do with the construction of the Tao Te Ching. Since I’m not making a formal academic study however, I’ll  dispense with literary theory and simply post readings I found to be of a similar mind…

This first is a lovely quote from the great Sivananda, in Georg Feuerstein’s pocket anthology, Teachings of Yoga:

Smile with the flower and the green grass. Play with the butterflies, birds, and deer. Shake hands with the shrubs, ferns, and twigs of trees. Talk to the rainbow, wind, stars, and the sun. Converse with the running brooks and the waves of the sea, Speak with the walking-stick. Develop friendship with all your neighbors, dogs, cats, cows, human beings, trees, flowers, etc. Then you will have a wide, perfect, rich, full life. You will realize the oneness or unity of life. This can hardly be described in words. You will have to feel this yourself.

I was also struck by these lines from Rumi, pulled from a larger work in the Coleman Barks/Michael Green collaboration, The Illuminated Rumi:

Bend, Tend, Disappear

This is how you change
when you go to the orchard
where the heart opens….

you become
fragrance and the light
that burning oil gives off,

long strands of grieving hair, lion
and at the same time, gazelle.

You’re walking alone without feet,
as riverwater does….

Bend like the limb of a peach tree.
Tend those who need help.
Disappear three days with the moon.

Don’t pray to be healed, or look for evidence
of “some other world.”
You are the soul
and the medicine for what wounds the soul.

And in closing, as has often happened on this inter-spiritual adventure called Monday Night Class, the final word goes to Mary Oliver, whose poet-mind roams deep in the diamond essence of the Tao. Every word and every space between those words, shimmering with light and the fertile darkness…

This World

I would like to write a poem about the world that has in it
nothing fancy.
But it seems impossible.
Whatever the subject, the morning sun
glimmers it.
The tulip feels the heat and flaps its petals open
and becomes a star.
The ants bore into the peony bud and there is the dark
pinprick well of sweetness.
As for the stones on the beach, forget it.
Each one could be set in gold.
So I tried with my eyes shut, but of course the birds
were singing.
And the aspen trees were shaking the sweetest music
out of their leaves.
And that was followed by, guess what, a momentous and
beautiful silence
as comes to all of us, in little earfuls, if we’re not too
hurried to hear it.
As for spiders, how the dew hangs in their webs
even if they say nothing, or seem to say nothing.
So fancy is the world, who knows, maybe they sing.
So fancy is the world, who knows, maybe the stars sing
too, and the ants, and the peonies, and the warm
stones,
so happy to be where they are, on the beach, instead of
being lock up in gold.

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September 13, 2010

Lovely to launch the Fall season of Monday Night Class.  Welcome to newcomers. Welcome back old-timers, regulars, and every now and then-ers!  I look forward to seeing you all again and again. Here’s this week’s portion from the Tao Te Ching:

29.
Do you want to improve the world?
I don’t think it can be done.
The world is sacred.
It can’t be improved.
If you tamper with it, you’ll ruin it.
If you treat it like an object, you’ll lose it.

There is a time for being ahead,
a time for being behind;
a time for being in motion,
a time for being at rest;
a time for being vigorous,
a time for being exhausted;
a time for being safe,
a time for being in danger.

The Master sees things as they are,
without trying to control them.
She lets them go their own way,
and resides at the center of the circle.

When we let things “go their own way, residing at the center of the circle,” we’re practicing what yogis call “non-doership.”  This is Karma Yoga, the path of action without attachment to the fruits of  our action. When we act from this place, we’re not caught in improving, tampering with, or objectifying the world (along with ourselves and others).  And that’s the way to “repair the world” without doing any harm.

This verse got me thinking about the Bhagavad Gita, the Hindu text that unfolds as a dialogue between the Supreme Lord Krishna and young hero Arjuna.  This version is from the contemporary teacher Eknath Easwaran. Although his translation has a modern sensibility very different from the original text, it delivers the teaching quite succinctly.

How to Work

Sri Krishna:  You have the right to work, but never to the fruit of work. You should never engage in action for the sake of reward, nor should you long for inaction. Perform work in this world, Arjuna, as a man established within himself—without selfish attachments, and alike in success and defeat. For yoga is perfect evenness of mind.

Seek refuge in the attitude of detachment and you will amass the wealth of spiritual awareness. Those who are motivated only by desire for the fruits of action are miserable, for they are constantly anxious about the results of what they do. When consciousness is unified, however, all vain anxiety is left behind. There is no cause for worry, whether things go well or ill. Therefore, devote yourself to the disciplines of yoga, for yoga is skill in action.

Finally, in honor of the Jewish New Year, also called the Days of Awe, a kernel of wisdom from Hayyim of Zans. This translation by Martin Buber is in Teachings of the Jewish Mystics, edited by Perle Besserman.  In the spirit of interfaith contemplation we’ve been enjoying in class, I might add that Perle used to live in Princeton where she and her husband co-led the Princeton Zen Group.

In my youth when I was fired with the love of God, I thought I would convert the whole world to God. But soon I discovered that it would be quite enough to convert the people who lived in my town, and I tried for a long time, but did not succeed. Then I realized that my program was still much too ambitious, and I concentrated on the persons in my own household. But I could not convert them either. Finally it dawned on me: I must work upon myself, so that I may give true service to God. But I did not accomplish even this.

Today was Yom Kippur, the final day of the Days of Awe. The traditional greeting is, L’shanah tovah, “May you be inscribed in the Book of Life for another year.” It’s a beautiful sentiment and to everyone I say, yes, L’shanah tovah.


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August 2, 2010

I’m still running  behind so will keep commentary to a minimum. Suffice to say that from my perspective, these readings fit beautifully together.

26.

The heavy is the root of the light.
The unmoved is the source of all movement.

Thus the master travels all day
without leaving home.
However splendid the views,
she stays serenely in herself.

Why should the lord of the country
flit about like a fool?
If you let yourself be blown to and fro,
you lose touch with your root.
If you let restlessness move you,
you lose touch with who you are.

This verse reminded me of  the story of  Satyakama and Gautama told in the Upanishads.  The version I read at class comes from the Vedanta Press edition by Sw. Prabhavananda and Frederick Manchester.  I think Satyakama perfectly embodies the understanding contained in the above verse. See what you think:

One day the boy Satyakama came to his mother and said: “Mother, I want to be a religious student. What is my family name?”

“My son,” replied his mother, “I do not know. In my youth I was a servant and worked in many places. I do not know who was your father. I am Jabala, and you are Satyakama. Call yourself Satyakama Jabala.”

Thereupon the boy went to Gautama and asked to be accepted as a student. “Of what family are you, my lad?” inquired the sage.

Satyakama relied: “I asked my mother what my family name was and she answered: ‘I do not know. In my youth I was a servant and worked in many places. I do not know who was your father. I am Jabala, and you are Satyakama. Call yourself Satyakama Jabala!’ I am therefore Satyakama Jabala, sir.”

Then said the sage: “None but a true Brahmin would have spoken thus. Go and fetch fuel, for I will teach you. You have not swerved from the truth.”

After initiating Satkakama, the sage gave him four hundred lean and sickly cattle, saying, “Take good care of these my lad.” The boy promptly drove them toward the forest, vowing to himself that he would not return until they numbered a thousand. He dwelt in the forest for many years, and when the cattle had increased to a thousand, the bull of the herd approached him and said, “Satyakama, we have become a herd of one thousand. Do you now lead us to the house of your master, and I will teach you one foot of Brahman.”

“Speak out, please,” said Satyakama.

Then said the bull: “The east is a part of the Lord and so is the west; the south is a part of the Lord and so is the north. The four cardinal points form a foot of Brahman. Fire will teach you another.”

On the following day, Satyakama began his journey. Toward evening he lit a fire and heard a voice saying, “Satyakama, I will teach you one foot of Brahman. This earth is a portion of Brahman. The sky and the heavens are portions of him. The ocean is a portion of him. All these form a foot of Brahman. A swan will teach you another.”

Satyakama continued his journey. One the following evening a swan came to him and said: “I have come to teach you one foot of Brahman. This lighted fire before you is part of Brahman, and likewise the moon; the lightning too is a part. All these form a foot of Brahman. A loon will teach you another.”

The next evening a loon came and said: “I will teach you one foot of Brahman. Breath is a part of Brahman, sight is a part, hearing is a part, mind is a part. All these form a foot of Brahman.”

At last the youth arrived at the home of his master and reverently presented himself before him. As soon as Gautama saw him, he exclaimed: “My son, your face shines like a knower of Brahman. By whom were you taught?”

“By beings other than men,” replied Satyakama, “but I desire that you too should teach me. For I have heard from the wise that the knowledge that the Guru imparts will alone lead to the supreme good.”

Then the sage taught him that knowledge and left nothing out.”

And we leave the final word to Sheik Nasrudin, as told by Christina Feldman and Jack Kornfield in Stories of the Spirit, Stories of the Heart.

Mulla Nasrudin used to stand in the street on market-days, to be pointed out as an idiot.

No matter how often people offered him a large and a small coin, he always chose the smaller piece.

One day a kindly man said to him: “Mulla, you should take the bigger coin. Then you will have more money and people will no longer be able to make a laughing-stock of you.”

“That might be true,” said Nasrudin, “but if I always take the larger, people will stop offering me money to prove that I am more idiotic than they are. Then I would have no money at all.”

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July 26, 2010

This weeks reading from the Tao Te Ching is a beautiful evocation of the Sacred Feminine, aka mother of the universe. As I explained in last week’s post, my blogging is running behind so I’m only posting texts we read at class.  I’ll be spinning commentary again before too long. In the meantime, if you weren’t at class, you’ll have to connect the dots…

25.

There was something formless and perfect
before the universe was born.
It is serene. Empty.
Solitary. Unchanging.
Infinite Eternally present.
It is the mother of the universe.
For lack of a better name,
I call it Tao.

It flows through all things,
inside and outside, and returns
to the origin of all things.

The Tao is great.
The universe is great.
Earth is great.
Man is great.
These are the four great powers.

Man follows the earth.
Earth follows the universe.
The universe follows the Tao.
The Tao follows only itself.

This reading inspired me to open the Devi Gita. I have several translations of this text. This is from Sw. Satyananda Saraswati’s version. Which is not the most sublime or scholarly. But is probably the most heartfelt. I pulled randomly, just to give another perspective on the Mother…

15-29.

Why are all your thoughts so filled with anxiety, when the auspicious Goddess of the Universe…is awake….She radiated like ten million suns, and again like the coolness of ten million moons….That Light was equal to ten million bolts of lightening, reflecting the highest Love. There was nothing above it, nor nothing below it, neither was there anything other in the middle from its origin…It had no beginning, nor had it an end. It had neither hands nor other limbs attached to its body….

And the last word goes to Mary Oliver…

“Just a minute,” said a voice in the weeds.
So I stood still
in the day’s exquisite morning light
and so I didn’t crush with my great feet
any small or unusual thing just happening to pass by
where I was passing by
on my way to the blueberry fields,
and maybe it was the toad
and maybe it was the June beetle
and maybe it was the pink and tender worm
who does his work without limbs or eyes
and does it well
or maybe it was the walking stick, still frail
and walking humbly by, looking for a tree,
or maybe, like Blake’s wondrous meeting, it was
the elves, carrying one of their own
on a rose-petal coffin away, away
into the deep grasses. After awhile
the quaintest voice said, “Thank you.” And then there was silence.
For the rest, I would keep you wondering.

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July 19, 2010

Here are readings from this week’s class —
You’ll notice no commentary from me on this post or on July 26th. Sorry about that. If you weren’t at class, you’ll have to fill in the blanks. I hope to get back to more in-depth posting  in August.

24.
He who stands on tiptoe
doesn’t stand firm.
He who rushes around doesn’t go far.
He who tries to shine
dims his own light.
he who defines himself
can’t know who he really is.
He who has power over others
can’t empower himself.
He who clings to his work
will create nothing that endures.
If you want to accord with the Tao,
just do your job, then let go.

[Tao Te Ching, version by Stephen Mitchell]

Brenda Ueland, If You Want To Write

….I am saying that all people have in them this power to write greatly and well, when they express freely and carelessly what is true to THEM. If I did not tell you that, if like most teachers and critics I just said: “Now, this is really good! Study this! and praised it to the skies, then you would try to write like it. And then it would not be any good at all. No, write from yourself…..

And perhaps I can explain here what I think is the difference between the human ego and the Divine ego. By self-confidence and boldness I do not mean conceit (the human ego). Conceit is very different. It is a static state where you rest on some past (or fancied) accomplishment. Then you rest on your oars and say to all (in so many words): “Look at me. I did that!”  But self-confidence never rests, but is always working and striving, and it is new and better. I think that is why boasting is vaguely disagreeable and one always regrets it…

But you never regret your sense of power and understanding inside, i.e. the Divine ego.  And this should always be increasing…. thousands and thousands of people, all people, have the same light in them, have their own creative power in them, if they would only come to see it, respect it and let it out.

Swami Muktananda, Where Are You Going?

There was a great seeker named Bullah Shah. For forty years he studied many religions and philosophies and took initiation from every teacher he came across. Yet he did not make any progress. The only thing he attained was a mind filled with doubts and a head burdened with the knowledge he had received from so many scriptures and teachers. Finally, his head became so heavy with knowledge that he could not hold it straight. One day a friend asked him what was wrong.

“Oh friend,” said Bullah Shah, “how can I describe my condition to you? I am carrying around so much weight and I cannot get rid of it.”

The friend said, “I know someone who can help you,” and he took Bullah Shah to the great Siddha, Inayat Shah.

“O sir,” said the friend, “here is a man who has studied all the philosophies and is carrying an enormous weight of learning in his head. If you could help him to discard some of it, he would  be very grateful to you.”

“All right,” the master said to Bullah Shah. “Leave your bundle of books somewhere else and spend some time with me.” So Bullah Shah stayed and after a few days, Inayat Shah touched him. In that instant all the weight Bullah Shah carried was lifted.

When he returned home, he threw away all his books and began to tell everyone he met that peace and bliss lie within, not in books or temples or mosques. “You cannot find God in scriptures or in holy places,” he would say. “Do not bother with those things. Just turn within and you will find God.”

When the orthodox teachers heard what Bullah Shah was saying, they all turned against him. They called a great assembly and summoned him to come before it.

“Bullah Shah,” they said, “you have been speaking against religion. You have committed a great sin.”

“If I have committed a sin, then surely I should be feeling pain,” said Bullah Shah. “But instead of pain, I am feeling joy, all my agony has left  me. If I have committed a sin, what punishment have you prescribed for me?”

“For your heresy, we are going to brand your body with a red-hot iron bar,” said the priests. “There is no worse sin than heresy.”

“I will accept this punishment, but first let me ask you something. Suppose that a religious teacher told an innocent person that if he followed a certain practice, he might attain something tomorrow, or in one year, or in ten years, and in this way, forty years went by and that poor seeker did not attain anything from the teacher. What punishment would you prescribe for such a teacher?”

“That would be a horrible sin!” they said. “If someone who has nothing to give makes others work for nothing, his body should be branded in twenty places.”

“Do you all agree with that?” asked Bullah Shah.

“Yes, we do,” said the priests.

“All of you deceived me for forty years. You made me study various scriptures and you forced me to practice techniques and rituals, yet I did not receive anything. So all of your bodies should be burned instead of mine.”

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July 12, 2010

Class returned to PCYH this week.  A joyous homecoming.  PCYH holds so many great memories. We held the first Devi Yoga unTraining here. And before that, so many incredible workshops and retreats. The incomparable Devi Raves happened here. Along with Bliss Cafe and outdoor fire ceremonies. It is very good to be back.

Here’s this week’s reading:

23.
Express yourself completely,
then keep quiet.
Be like the forces of nature:
when it blows, there is only wind;
when it rains, there is only rain;
when the clouds pass, the sun shines through.

If you open yourself to the Tao,
you are at one with the Tao
and you can embody it completely.
If you open yourself to insight,
you are at one with insight,
and you can use it completely.
If you open yourself to loss,
you are at one with loss
and you can accept it completely.

Open yourself to the Tao,
then trust your natural responses;
and everything will fall into place.

The Tao Te Ching is truly a sublime text. It expresses the most profound with utter simplicity and ease.  What it doesn’t do though is offer step-by-step instructions for how one actually opens to the Tao.  It’s like an impressionistic painting. We can sense the truth pulsing through the lines. We can feel uplifted as we read. And in all of that, there is opening into the vast open space called Tao.   However, if we want a hands-on guide, I suspect Patanjali-Yoga-Sutra is the text to go to. It’s offers more of a paint-by-numbers approach. And I don’t mean that in a flip way. It’s one of the most concise and essential collections of practical and experiential psychology I’ve ever encountered.  Whereas Tao Te Ching inspires us to open into our Tao nature, Patanjali explains exactly how to do this.  Here are few sutras from the first chapter. I read these at class to complement the main reading. At this point, I’m more interested in showing parallels between what Tao Te Ching calls Tao and Yoga calls Self.  We’ll be diving into this text when we complete our journey through the Tao Te Ching.

1,2
Yoga is experienced in that mind which has ceased to identify itself with its vacillating waves of perception [aka thoughts].

1,3
When this happens, then the Seer is revealed, resting in its own essential nature, and one realizes the True Self.

1, 48
Therein dwells a luminous wisdom that upholds the essence of truth.

1,51
When the mind becomes free from obstruction, all vacillations cease, and the mind becomes absorbed into spirit…. Thus a new mind is born of this wisdom….

I couldn’t leave off these readings without quoting a few lines from Shankaracharya’s  Six Stanzas on Salvation.  The Tao Te Ching suggests, Patanjali-Yoga-Sutra advises, and Shankaracharya is simply there:

Shankaracharya Six Stanzas on Salvation

1.
I am neither the conscious nor the unconscious mind, neither intelligence nor ego, neither the ears nor the tongue not the senses of smell and sight, neither either nor air nor fire nor water nor earth, I am consciousness and bliss. I am Shiva! I am Shiva!

6.
I am without thought, without form. I am all-pervasive, I am everywhere, yet I am beyond all senses. I am neither detachment nor salvation nor anything that could be measured. I am consciousness and bliss. I am Shiva! I am Shiva!