Resolve to Resolve

Hey there,

So I've made it a resolution to blog my dharma talk each week.  For those of you who don't know, in the yoga-class context a dharma talk is a short talk of meaning or purpose given at the beginning of class. It usually serves as a thematic anchor for the rest of the class.  I've found that teaching helps me clarify my thoughts, so I'll probably wait until the end of the week to summarize all I've learned.  Plus, I don't want to ruin any surprises for the people planning to come to my class during the week :)

So, here goes, for the week of 1/1/13:

RESOLVE TO RESOLVE

Lots of people have New Year's resolutions.  I'm struck by the two different definitions of the word "resolve."  To have resolve is to have clear focus and dedication toward an action or ideal.  To resolve something is to make it better, to add peace where it did not exist before.  With that in mind, I have adopted the following mantra:

"I resolve to resolve."

Everyone has conflict.  On a daily basis we are faced with small and large things that make us feel agitated.  Whether this dis-ease rests within yourself or in relationships with others, there's normally something that needs to be resolved.  I think we would benefit from assuring that any resolution we make also resolves something for us.  Resolve to resolve.

How do we do it?  I think it takes listening.  It's too easy to be right all the time.  It's too easy to surround ourselves only with people who support our opinions as fact.  We have GOT to, as a community, a nation, a species, start resolving to resolve.  We've got to compromise, and love each other even when we disagree.  I'm not saying you shouldn't stand up for yourself, but as you do, ask yourself what it is you are resolving by doing so.

Let's resolve to resolve.  Happy New Year, sweet souls,
April

Total Eclipse of the Heart

So this morning there was a partial lunar eclipse.  What happens during a lunar eclipse is that the sun, the moon, and the earth are aligned so that the shadow of the earth is cast upon the moon.  This blocks out some of the moon, making it look like part of the moon has disappeared.  Lots of ancient cultures have folklore about various animals eating the moon, and would even do things like hurl curses and sticks at the sky to try and prevent the animal from its nighttime snack. 

This makes me think about some things.

The earth is the thing casting the actual darkness on the moon.  What's funny about the ancient traditions of blaming an outside source for the darkness of the moon, is that it is indeed our home planet hiding the light.  So it's the earth's own doing that it can't see the light of the moon - it's standing in its own way…ahem…sound familiar to anyone?  In the astrological context, it is said that this is a representation of material things standing in the way of true knowledge.  Just as if the earth were aligned in a slightly different way we could see the entire moon, if our perspective were able to shift just the tiniest bit then greater truth would be illuminated for us.

Another thought.  The earth isn't BAD for casting a shadow on the moon.  How in the world could that be so?  The earth isn't doing anything other than being exactly where it is, without any preconception or control.  In fact, it has absolutely no choice at all about where it is - there are forces far beyond its reach that hold it into its relationship with the sun and the moon.  And where it is, it casts a shadow on the moon.  There will always be somebody casting their shadow on you.  It is very important to remember that they are not doing so because they are bad.  They are being exactly where they are, which has nothing to do with you.  And whether or not you know it, you are casting your shadow on somebody else.  It is the nature of being pieces of matter.  There will be light.  Sometimes we will block it, sometimes it will be blocked from us.  But it's still there.  The matter in the way of it isn't good or bad, it's just being in the only place it can possibly be at a given moment.

-----

Eclipses tend to be a time of illumination.  Things that were blocked from view become clear and simple.  I hope this is the case for you. 

Emocean

The intensity of our emotions can sometimes be confusing.  Our feelings are capable of washing over us like an ocean, giving us the impression that we are helplessly drowning in the intensity of our own being.  Whether this sea is made of drops of romance, sorrow, elation, or rage, its storms are formidable, capable of sending the most seasoned captains off course.

But what if we could measure the intensity of our emotions the same way we measure the intensity of sugar in our foods?  What if there were some sort of emotional nutrition facts that could show us how many calories of feeling we were experiencing?  What if managing the intensity of our emotions could be as simple as calorie counting?

While an actual measurement of our emotional intensity may never be possible, perhaps it is still possible for us to become the Poseidon of our own “Emocean.”  Let’s liken our feelings to sugar for a moment.  Any doctor will tell you that in moderation, sugar is not harmful to your body.  It’s when we go overboard that we start to see the negative impacts of our consumption.  So let’s begin to view intense emotions like a big huge slice of cake: an indulgence.  Indulgences are not bad!  But they must be moderated. 

One of the most wonderful things about the human experience is being caught up in our feelings.  Our hearts are capable of great power, and we ought to succumb to them from time to time.  But we must be aware that we are allowing this consumption to take place, just as we are aware when we are having one slice of cake too many.  Be intense, but never think you are helpless against the waves of your own creation.  Wield your trident, Poseidon, love the storm or love the calm, but never think you are without choice.

The Plight of an Open Heart

The plight of an open heart is that everyone can see it.  Like a moth to the flame, lonesome wanderers stumbling through the dark will be drawn to you.  Be ready. 

The plight of an open heart is that everyone will want it.  They will feed off of you and never be able to replenish what you are willing to give.  Be ready.

The plight of an open heart is that it desires to give.  And you will have a hard time stopping.  Be ready.

The plight of an open heart is that you stand to gain everything.  But you have to lose it all first.

I sound like Chicken Soup for the Soul and it makes me want to vomit.  And then vomit again because I actually mean all of it.

In the Company of Sorrow

I know a lot of people who have been having a rough time lately.  I've got a couple things to share that I hope might help you.  One of the things the yogic teachings ask of us is to learn how to "be with what is."  I think that this presents a very interesting idea: namely, that you are not defined by the experience you are having. 

You are not an emotion.  You are not a thought.  You are not a hand or a foot or a movement or a desire.  You are always more than all of these things combined.

In the experience of being alive we can sometimes feel like we are drowning in circumstance; like we are submerged in the sea of emotion, or maybe clutching to an ideal that keeps us stuck.  When this happens, can we remember:

You cannot be happy.  You cannot be sad.  Because you are always more than.  Let's instead think of being in the company of joy.  Or in the company of sorrow.  But it will never define you.  Because you are bigger than anything that can happen to you or around you.  When we think of being in the company of experience we can see the space between ourselves and events, between ourselves and intensity, between ourselves and success, between ourselves and loss.

We get to have the experiences, not the other way around.  Because we are infinite, and long outlive the brief moments of any event.

-----------------

I am in the company of sorrow, whose presence is affecting and strong.  I try to be good company.  I listen to it, I give it the chance to express itself, I offer it my point of view when it asks, and even allow it to try and engulf me when it gets petty and stubborn.  Because I am burning a ferocious and punishing love that won't be ignored.  So I will be with it.  I will let it rage all it wants until it exhausts itself and dies, leaving whatever wreckage and scars it wants.  Because none of it will define me.  I am always more.

My heart is not broken.  It works very well.

Footprints of Angels

In his book The Inner Tradition of Yoga, Michael Stone discusses how yoga is the tool by which we are attempting to find equilibrium in our imbalanced selves while existing in a world inherently out of balance. Since starting my yoga teacher training I have certainly begun to find more balance, but I have not been so focused on the whole "world out of balance" part. I continue on my quest to develop my most balanced self, but I am reminded today to remember the rest of the framework in which I live. I have been studying dutifully how to expand the universe of me, but I now have to ask myself "In relation to what?"

Today the imbalance of the world was demonstrated by the hundreds of people who died in a stampede in Cambodia. I cannot think of a more gruesome and eye-opening example of the destructive capabilities of mankind. Hundreds of people were trampled to death by the feet of neighbors and peers. Feet that once danced, feet that dug themselves into wet sand, feet that tiptoed past the doors of sleeping children took lives with manic and thoughtless steps. We have spent centuries evolving our war weapons, but all of it is completely unnecessary; we do not require any tools beyond our own limbs.

Nobody knows what started the stampede.


--------------
So, to this context of consciousness called 'life': I see you, and recognize you, and thank you for everything you are. As you continue to expand and change, so will I. I can leave the footprints, but I can't create the soil - I need you for that.

If you judge, investigate.

Far Away.

I have said it before: if we abolish the idea that such a place exists, we could end war, inequality, and hatred. But the story which makes me revisit this theory has little to do with physical place. What if this also applies to the quality of our minds?

In this article the lamentable stories are told of mentally ill Chinese citizens and the victims of their violent crimes. Many of the cases are those of untreated or ignored schizophrenia resulting in violent acts against children and the elderly. In the case of Yang Jiaqin, he has received only one month of treatment in the past five years despite obvious signs of schizophrenia. It should not have been surprising when he took a butcher knife and roamed around his home village slashing anyone he came across, including a group of children coming home from school and an elderly couple chopping wood.

It is so easy to make space between ourselves and these instances. In fact, it is our instinct to do so in order that we be able to continue on our way without being damaged. If we absorbed every terrible thing we came across we would all suffer from severe and constant heartbreak. In order to even survive reading articles like this, we must create a little air between ourselves and traumatic events described. However, if we carry this to excess then we enter the realm of judgment and the assumption that such things could never happen to us. So is this the key to curing the mind of judgment?

Winston Churchill said "I like pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals." If we embrace our inner swine, then it will never have to prove to us that it exists. Accepting that insanity, misbehavior, and ignorance are right around the corner levels the playing field between ourselves and the recipients of our scrutiny.

Haha, I feel like I go through all this work to arrive at very obvious conclusions. I suppose that's part of the reality of definitions existing before words.