12.24.10
Good Shepherd from Catacomb of Priscilla, 2nd C AD, Rome
(A lovely human image: where's the halo and trappings of a king?)
perfect
Drove back from Atlanta today truly listening to "A Very Special Christmas 3" CD - surprising versions of standards and unusual seasonal songs and raps. Patti Smith sang a mournful and moving version of "We Three Kings." But I was also affected by others and started thinking about this enlightened Jew who so fearlessly proclaimed his truth - throwing money changers out of the Temple and who later was killed. Something shifted. I felt very light, blissful, and grounded all at once. A Christmas blessing, perhaps.
Atlanta was ideal. Serious Ashtanga every day - strength! stamina! and flexibility with excellent tips on jump back and jump through given by Marsha at Balance Yoga. Then - theater, ballet - the Nutcracker, galleries, Iron Chef, movies, and more. Saw "True Grit" twice. First the John Wayne version on TV which we loved and then the Coen Brothers version just out, which we did not love.
Nice to be away with time to relax - not be on a schedule other than the one we made. That's the difference from Peru. There was one day - Thanksgiving - when, God forbid I should miss something, stray from the group schedule, and follow my instincts! ; -) Machu Picchu, hot springs, then a big dinner - sounds good but it felt hectic and forced (by me).
It's supposed to snow tonight. We're prepared to be snowed in, but if there's no snow - we're also prepared for a hike before a feast!
metta
may all be free of suffering
be joyful, healthy, happy
and peaceful
from Catacomb of Priscilla
12.15.10
vulnerare
This is an image from Machu Picchu. It seems a good metaphor for how I have been feeling. (Other images of these magnificent stone walls looked too much like protective facades.) Perhaps due to the illness, the trip, and/or other events, life has been ferocious. No facade or a facade but no protection? Resistance - someone resists, persists.
In truth - I have never felt or been so vulnerable in my life - ever. This persona has been so easily, painfully, and deeply hurt, so crushed, and so without protection. And so hard, hard on herself.
* vulnerare is Latin: to wound.
A friend who was also sick on the plane back from Peru said - she/we could experience anything after that. Agreed, agreed. This hurting seems another version of experiencing the worst...
*
Dreamt a few nights ago that a very tiny baby was my charge to take from one place to another. We were on a train. The baby only seemed odd, strangely small (maybe 3"), or weird (tho not like the "Eraserhead" baby) after I noticed it had stopped breathing. Then I realized I had not paid much attention to it. I awoke wondering it it had died, and wanted to return to the dream.
To die before one dies.
*
Lovely clean-up day. No a perfect day. Class cleaned for 30 minutes and socialized for 2 hours. They brought food and cd's. A departing grad gifted me with a "Happy Tree" t-shirt with image of pbs painter (painter should be in quotes) Bob Ross. Love it. Also timed well for our painting search - tee hee.
Now for some sleep.
metta
12.5.10
This is amazing! Each stone is respected for what it is and yet it fits perfectly with the whole.
Here's a metaphor for the One and the beauty of Andean culture and people.
an essential reduction + good fortune
For the second time in four months YT has been seriously downsized. The knee gash was a minor knock-out compared to this dusting. Alone and on the first brief leg, Cusco to Lima - of the trip back (C stayed behind for a trek), when I became ill. Arriving weak as a kitten and sicker than a "dog" - the first thing I saw in Lima was - a miracle: a medical clinic. How many airports in the world have a clinic just off the baggage claim? (None that I've ever seen.)
Too ill to pick up luggage, went to clinic where a wonderful woman MD - so unpretentious I thought she was a nurse - gave me an anti-vomit-nausea shot and put me on an IV. (At that point, I could swallow a cipro.) Everything I had cared about only two hours earlier - vaporized. In fact, even contemplating any of those things - purchases to luggage to Ashtanga - revulsed me. Body/mind rejected everything except awareness of extreme sensation and human relationships. All else - gone!
After about 3 hours, felt well enough - slowly and with much difficulty - to go to the departure gate where no information was available about my flight. Then after periods of sleeping and checking, discovered flight was delayed 8 hours. No energy to care, but if I could have, I'd have been grateful - as I am now, because it allowed me to rest and recover somewhat.
It takes vast amounts of energy to be a "me."
"To die before one dies."
More later.
gratitude gratitude gratitude
11.14.10
Incan calendar
count-down
This trip prep may be one of the most organized so far. 4 days to departure (3 of which will be spent at work). Last minute frenzy may occur, but I've finished cleaning and already started to pack - things that usually take place well into the night on the eve of departure, so it may be smooth going.
One of (my) grad students had his thesis show and defense this week. It's such a remarkable thing to get to know and understand people by way of intensely observing and critiquing their work. Most grads I've worked with so far have a stopping point beyond which they don't want to look - as in this case - or cling to an idea that's irrelevant in some way...perhaps also in this case. And aren't clinging and stopping points attributes common to us all? Fractals...
Have been looking forward to this trip, then the John Campbell workshop, then Atlanta. Altitude and I have had problems in the past- hiking in Ladakh in particular so am wondering how the Ashtanga will go. Who cares? It's going to be a fabulous adventure.
Am giving thanks, filled with gratitude for many, many things.
metta
11.7.10
quiet bliss
These fractal images boggle my mind. It seems as if this one is a fractal of the one posted below. Mind cannot compute!!! (Nevertheless something "gets" it.)
It turned cold this weekend - the first snow. After last winter here on the mountainside, I have a certain dread of snow. Not enough sun on our street in the winter, and those memories of hacking at 2" of ice with a stone hammer are fresh.
Ashtanga yoga can be so divine - sometimes it feels like deep meditation during Mysore class. When one moves through the series at one's own pace and rhythm, the doer is sometimes absent and at other times in deep focus. Today's was a lovely class after which the body vibrated with vigor, good energy. A woman turned to me afterward and said, "You are such an inspiration, etc" Nice, but part of me thinks such comments are because I could be the grandmother of almost everyone (except C) there! Nevertheless, it was said in the purest of spirit...
Anyway, there is delight in this practice.
Spanish progresses slowly yet somewhat steadily (like Ashtanga practice). Flu shot (OW!) and prep for trip has been fun - the latter not the former. It's coming soon.
Thoughts/feelings on the nature of art and how art moves through me are prominent these days. At grad crit last week, one student (perhaps unknowingly) is testing boundaries of art-life. Art-life—it's a central issue for YT. Here are two quotes by John Cage (one posted previously) that hint at the heart of it.
Art's purpose is to sober and quiet the mind so that it is in accord with what happens.
Art is a sort of experimental station in which one tries out living.
metta
10.22.10
Life as a Fractal
This image really captures the similarness and diversity (and infinity) of fractals!
It also expresses the way things look around here now - blue sky against rich reds, browns, and yellows. Glorious.
Back from a 7AM Mysore class. Pushed hard and good by N. Aaaaaaah!
C got Spanish CD's and is working on it hard. Good job, C! I'll be transferring the cd's to my ipod and learning too. Vamos a Peru!
Connected with Patty from retreat. It feels better to think she recognized me in some way, perhaps from a past life - (even if that's just a pleasant new-age notion.) Otherwise I fret and wonder why the interest without knowing me (in the usual ways). Projections that I could never live up to? (One source of anxiety originally.) My conditioning on how we get to know one another also comes into play.
All is well! Adventures!
Throw it away! Give your love each and every day -
"Throw It Away" song in Turtle's Dream by Abbey Lincoln
metta
10.18.10
captured web image of fractal
(prefer my own mental picture)
self-similarity
Definitely fall mode now: leaves are peaking, air crisp and cool, decks covered with discarded leaves, days short. Fall break almost finished too. Feel somewhat caught up on all the lists, breaths, and relaaaaxations.
Finished "Ambivalent Zen" and felt sad, because Sheinberg, the author never came through the other side (in the book). His suffering is akin to my own "mistaking the finger pointing at the moon - for the moon," or "eating the menu instead of the dinner." There's a deep belief in some of us that 1. we have to get somewhere and 2. we can only be led there by someone to whom we have yielded our knowing heart. (see quote below.)
Recently I've been seeing everything (including myself) as a fractal.* It's a (somewhat) scientifically slanted way of thinking about oneness, IMHO. We—all humans, my cat, a book end, the earth, the galaxy, ALL form (and emptiness) are infinitely replicated copies, fractions of the whole. We are composed of self-similar parts and we are the sum of all parts of the whole. We contain all things infinitely vast and infinitely small; they contain us...Self-similarity...Atman-Brahmin...Fractals!!!
In a more concrete way...me and my world may be a mere sub-atomic particle in some guy's coffee...and some guy and his world is definitely in my herbal tea.
!
***
* A fractal is "a rough or fragmented geometric shape that can be split into parts, each of which is a reduced copy of the whole," a property called self-similarity.
(Note WIKI also says that fractals are too irregular to be easily described in traditional Euclidean geometric language.)
* Mandelbrot, B. B. (1982). The Fractal Geometry of Nature. W.H. Freeman and Company ISBN 0-7167-1186-9 and Wikipedia
Just now read Mandelbrot, the "father of fractals," died at 85 last Thursday 10/14. (See link.) Mandelbrot and Fractals
***
10.10.10
tententen
oh, the simple beauty of today
in binary and text
a gray code
a red drum roll
and perfectly loud digital digressions
(all crass hints of some-thing-no-thing-elseness)
Friend Cici has just left (in her new car - home to Durham) after a special visit. Chuck is at yoga. I opted for some quiet time for various things including resting and recovery from a mild cold.
Black Mountain College alumni are looming large these days: Snelson and Cage! Last night we all went to Snelson lecture (part of Black Mountain College + Museum Center's international conference) and what a remarkable and charming guy Snelson is. His visual models of the atom fascinate me, but unless I go real slow with all his science - it goes whoosh - over my head!
Last week "The New Yorker" had (what I'm calling) its Buddhist issue with an article on the Dalai Lama and John Cage. Here's a quote from the latter which really jolted me - since it is exactly what I am feeling about creativity these days:
"Art is a sort of experimental station in which one tries out living."
How can we separate art from life? (And why should we try?!) Cage chose to frame art/life in some way. One good example is "4'33"", which is performed in a concert hall and consists of about 4 and 1/2 minutes of "silence."
To add to this dynamic mix, A. sent me "Ambivalent Zen" which I can't seem to put down. Somehow this compelling memoir dovetails with Cage (also a Zennie) et al perfectly.
So today am missing Ashtanga, but had quite a dose last weekend in Atlanta with two helpful classes, one for hip opening. YT ended up easily (!) slipping into yoganidrasana (yogi sleeping pose - very comfortable). Was delighted and assumed supta kurmasana would follow later. Wrong - got home and could do neither! After doing first series with Sharath CD this week - did both - with C's help putting other leg behind my head (for supta kurmasana.) Yay!
Then this head cold and need to slow down again. Cici and I are both giving ourselves messages to not try so hard (or perhaps the word is grasp). Am getting similar hints from the universe via knee gashes and head colds.
Aaaaaaah. Not had a bath since September 2 (because of knee mess - it still looks awful!) Tonight might be the time to say goodbye to showers—and cold feet!
metta
101010
yoganidrasana
Crestone rainbow
9.25.10
flotsam
Quiet time writing letter and birthday wishes to Diane in Hawaii, my treasured friend from grad school. She has turned us on to a possible Zatoichi replacement - "Ryoma den" which we will watch tonight via mysoju.com. C is at the Greek festival in Asheville, and I am catching up (from backlog resulting from two days of dealing with internet problems.)
First endorphins in 3 weeks today: yoga!! Did all the standing poses in first series and figured out knee adaptations for sitting poses and finishing poses. Feeling good. Planned to run for first time today, but just in case bone is bruised, will give it a rest for a few more days. Tomorrow - back to Sunday class with Mindy.Yay!
Dr. Judy removed the sewn sutures (eek and ow!) last Monday, but because of the infection, she replaced with tape-glue ones. Now waiting for "time" to remove those.
Lunch with J (whom I met sharing ride to California retreat) in Asheville. Nice to talk with a visiting path-mate. She turned me on to Millman's "Way of the Peaceful Warrior." Enjoying it, even though it seems to be a Carlos Castenada-Don Juan (pale) wannabe story.
Peru is on the horizon.
Gorgeous warm weather. Cool nights. More and more leaves each day. Everything still very green. Equinox - 4 days ago. The balance is tipping.
We may worry about death but what hurts the soul most is to live without tasting the water of its own essence. - Rumi
9.18.10
after and before
A visit with Dr. Judy yesterday determined why wound was not healing. She put me on another antibiotic. I got some rest and am beginning to feel a little more like Before and a little less like After. Also, without usual dose of endorphins and focus related to Ashtanga and running, body-soul seems dull-sad.
Consciousness has felt so super magnified and intense since and during retreat. Noticing how often mind imposes on actuality with assumptions that filter and obscure perception of truth.
"Only don't know!"
Back at (silent) retreat after the fall, anguish! Retreat leader Patti had said not to give her notes. I thought the gash was serious so wrote a brief message and delivered it to her before the noon sit, the most angst filled sit ever (and I've had a few). Will she ignore my message? Will the wound get infected? Will my leg have to be cut off? Shall I write another note? The works!
On the way out Patti motioned to me (what a relief!), and she and an RN retreatant examined the wound and determined I should go to the emergency room asap. Here's an example of assumptions—Patti was so surprisingly solicitous. Then as we walked/limped over to lunch, she stopped, looked at me directly, and said something like "I'm so sorry this happened, but I've seen you at retreats and have been wanting to meet you for such a long time, etc etc" For some reason—and I was in a state of mental shock already—I felt other jolts of angst and distress.
Some of it was realizing that due to my beliefs, I'd not really "seen" Patti before. I'd put her in a category of the Beautiful California Women at A's retreats—all aging exquisitely, wearing billowy skirts and full flowing manes of gray hair. I'd mostly dismissed them and assumed they were all friends too. Well, Patti is from Tennessee and of course nothing like I thought....
Here's an obvious and easily dispelled (unlike the other) example of assuming: a young, very good-looking MD entered the exam room. I thought "Oh, no! An arrogant, handsome young doctor - this is going to be worse than I thought." This guy was the kindest, gentlest doctor I've ever experienced. He was wonderful doing the stitches, and we had a great conversation.
There's more of course, this event was BIG. Here's to slugs, swifts, epiphanies, and loving kindness—even NOT loving kindness. Naked, unvarnished, truth.
metta
9.9.10
once again, the mystery of not knowing
Once again, I accept that life is uncertain-that the goal is not to become more certain about anything but to relax more into the mystery of not knowing what will come next.
- Elizabeth Lesser
9.7.10
falling, stitching, and the King's men
from "Through the Looking Glass" by Lewis Carroll
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the King's horses, And all the King's men
Couldn't put Humpty together again!
- Nursery Rhyme
We would rather be ruined than changed.
We would rather die in our dread
Than climb the cross of the moment
And let our illusions die.
- W.H.Auden
Gorgeous cool morning. Day 2 of retreat. It was too soon after breakfast to continue the (Ashtanga) First Series, but enough time had passed that it was ok to put on the running gear and trot the mile or so out to the paved street. Aware of the rock-pocked retreat road and its up and downs, I also noted its gravelly irregularities.
Even so, returning, I lost my footing on a loose rock—like running on a Steely. There was a slo-mo release, flying, soaring, and "Oh, good, not going to fall, just stumble and recover." Then, "Going to fall after all. Nothing to be done." I relaxed and simultaneously crashed and skidded, in a perfect physics model of inertia, friction, and gravity.
A U-flap of knee skin hung down revealing a bloodless gash, rimmed with brown.
I met the ground, and the retreat—no the world—changed. Shaken and humbled, I limped back, washed the wound, was horrified, and realized it was bad. Anguish, tears, a lavish variety of fears, stitches, and epiphanies followed—not exactly in that order.
All the King's horses, And all the King's men
Couldn't put Self-y back together again!
More later.
8.29.10
ready or not
backyard crabapples
Vox Populi
As every falling leaf
as every thudding crabapple
meets earth or roof or road
a covert voice shouts Stop!
Wait!
Not yet!
(The same entreaty once was heard
when finding new gray hairs)
Another inner upstart says—
Too late and anyway
they ignore you
8/31: Not quite finished with second week of classes. It's good, almost immediately hectic. "Someone" is watching and aware - noticing what YT is thinking and enjoying the movie.
Leaving for Charlottesville VA in a couple days. Re-treat. Big treat. Will be sitting in aural (I didn't say mental) silence. Also looking forward to the drive even though it will be Labor Day weekend. I shall be cautious. And I shall do some Ashtanga on my blue mat every day.
So hooray!
More about Crestone: In the middle of nowhere, at 8500 feet, it has a population a fraction of its elevation. It's the home of some of the most remarkable spiritual people and diverse spiritual groups on the planet. In searching for an Ashtanga master, we discovered Buddhism (Zen, Tibetan centers), Hinduism (two ashrams), Christian (left wing Catholics), great hiking, and a green building center, among other things. Even one of Adya's designated teachers is there with satsang once a week!
Daydreaming of another holiday, involving Ashtanga, hiking, and magic at another high elevation....Pisac (Peru.)
Okay, I bought some red shoes. Have wanted a pair almost my whole life. Now I got 'em. Wore 'em every day since they came.
Metta!
8.22.10
peaked Aphrodite hosta - smells like a gardenia
Qualms
The light is golden, mild, disarmed.
Last night a chill intruded.
A leaf falls solo. Others freed
un-treed lie here or there.
The fading canopy is past its prime.
As crickets chirr, planets turn.
(8.28.10)
Qualms*
The light is golden, soft, disarmed.
Last night was a bit cool.
A leaf sails solo and others freed,
un-treed are here or there.
This week we sat on the sunnier deck.
As crickets chirp, planets move.
(*original - off the cuff)
8.15.10
roof of Dushanbe tea house, like one in Tajikistan (Boulder sister city)
intense essentials
Take away everything from Asheville that's not "important" and what do you have?
Boulder, Colorado.
Take away everything from Boulder that's not "important" and what do you have?
Crestone, Colorado.
Crestone, CO Welcome Center
**
Intro to Boulder: first night at a Japanese restaurant. We're both exhausted and hungry. A gorgeous young Asian woman from behind the sushi bar comes up to us - and says to Chuck, "She" (indicating YT) is beautiful." Then to moi, with warmth and sincerity - "When I get old, I want to look/be just like you." Communications straight from the heart. Know it is - because of the "when I get old". Ha! and there I am, so pleased. "Old" made it sweetly funny and truthful.
**
Boulder was a whirl of activity—Shakespeare at CU,"Taming of the Shrew" and "King Lear" (in some ways better than Ashland), Ashtanga at Richard Freeman studio, hiking (winded by the altitude), a clinic for Newton running shoes (even more winded), gourmet vegetarian dining at Leaf (better than anywhere else, I swear), Dushanbe Tea House, and a look at real estate.
**
Crestone - more—music festival, visit to stupas, 2 hour trip to Pagosa Springs to visit with Allan and Rita and soak for hours in mineral springs (wonderful), exploring/finding the many spiritual centers there from Catholic to Shumei, staying in hay bale house, daily Ashtanga with Annie Pace (a genuinely committed teacher), hiking (still too winded), and quiet quiet.
Loved the small - maximum about 12 yoga mats - yoga shala and Annie Pace's intensity. I told her my goal was to do a hand stand....before it's too late (the "old" thing.) She smiled a Buddha smile and said "There are worse goals." She's older though of indeterminate age, small, brown and tight as a bean, all muscle. She follows an Ayurvedic diet/life style (she must be a Vatta), sings at the end of class, is dynamically energetic, and wears two pigtails.
We will be going back to Crestone. Maybe to live. There's nothing there in terms of numbers of people and cultural pizzazz but spiritually it's deep, broad, and potent. There is a visual and mental clarity there, perhaps superficially due to altitude. We both feel a pull.
**
Enjoyed Allan and Rita, her bright energy and his Champagne wit—dry with sparkling undertones. With good friends no matter how long it's been, the connection returns immediately.
**
Love being back too. Like the heavy, humid air. (I may be mostly Vatta too.) Love my dear cats, and the Aphrodite hosta blooming in the back yard....there is so much baroque richness here....
YT (with feet turned out too much)
7.31.10
droplets
It's raining. What a calming sound. Conditioned by Seattle's ample drizzle, I always view rain as a chance to slow down, close in, and reflect.
Not much time for any of those things right now. Leaving for Colorado in a few days. Excited about visit to Crestone, a place as big in spirituality as it is small and remote. There's an Ashantanga shala (Annie Pace—certified), an ashram, a Buddhist center, mountains, and hot springs! Makes Boulder, where we will also spend time—look like a (slightly) crass commercial center of spirituality!
August arrives tomorrow and with it, fall semester. So grateful for this break and time to make peace with the Spring Suffering (growing pains?) which involved two events—a scary, accusatory letter from a grad (and its effect on me), and a hurt/betrayal by friends (and effect). Lots of looking and a session with M. Allowing (my) unlikable thoughts and feelings enough space to become aware of them, feels like return of an open heart. We'll see.
YT is so strong! Well, relatively speaking, that is. My bulging (!) biceps are stronger than they've ever been—thanks to first series. Love Ashtanga. It's such a lesson in humility. I do the best I can, progress is SO slow, I'll never be 22 again, and I don't expect much if anything. Yesterday without realizing it, I lifted myself into a push-up from the ground. Nothing really by Ashtanga standards, but it feels so-ooo good.
3 good movies: "Winter's Bone" scary mystery about mountain people, felt close to here, "The Secret in Their Eyes" another mystery combined with a love story, quite wonderful, and "The Kids Are All Right" about a lesbian family (made me sad.)
It's stopped raining. Time to move.
Colorado...here we come—hooray!
Big smile. ..
metta
metta
metta
7.18.10
pillow billow
blue
yonder yoga
vinyasa supta
pandangusthasana
inhale leg eyes
upward
oh!
sky movement
my movement
no mind
amazed
movement
silence
drifts
a thought
balloon bobbles
how
easy easy easy
everything
is
.
7.12.10
Kenneth Snelson “Space Frame Weave, Octa-Form”, (bamboo) 2002
weather report
Started a bit of research for Snelson review. Before seeing him talk a couple of years ago, never engaged with his work. It seemed cold. Well, it might be, but also think he's getting at some essential truths transecting (and maybe transcending) art and science. More to come.
Baseball - more basic truths. Hey, isn't that a baseball diamond above and a baseball below? Warm, slow, lovely nights (simple truths) watching Asheville Tourists. Yay for the home team! (simple truth.)
Daily Ashtanga practice on the deck-weather permitting-has also been lovely. Often followed (or preceded) by a run, meditation, and a breakfast of peaches, blueberries, walnuts and yogurt -- aah summer and...
heaven
so ever green
in thrashing rain
sweat beads roll down
chataranga muscles, ow!
thunder jolts
jade black cat up a tree
new silver dollar moon
a sliver hangin' on
my blue berry
heaven
Molecule Model, Kenneth Snelson
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